Nothing More, Nothing Less
by SonicRingNoise
Summary: The Precursors might have given him his powers, but they sure as hell weren't going to teach him how to use them.
1. Chapter 1

_Well...here we go! It's been a while since I've written fanfiction, but I was playing Jak 3 again and couldn't help myself. Happy reading!_

* * *

Of course Jak wasn't going to die like a normal person.

He couldn't die of heatstroke in the desert, no, that would be too easy. Too mundane. He couldn't be eaten by metalheads or fall into lava. That was too glamorous a death.

No, Jak was going to die of _the fucking flu._

It had started in the desert, during a scavenger mission with Sig, when he wasn't feeling well—nausea, headache, feeling hot. Jak eventually had to pull over and vomit out the passenger side while Sig drove.

It only got worse once they reached Spargus. Jak was so dizzy that Sig had to support him with one arm. He was practically dragging the boy, half unconscious. The world was going in and out, his friends' voices weaving throughout the noise of the desert city. He struggled to stay on his feet, eventually giving up and just letting them drag on the ground as Sig pulled him forward.

"Hey." Sig shook him gently. "If I drop you off at the palace, you gonna be okay?"

"…Yeah," Jak croaked. "Just need some water."

Sig clearly didn't believe him, but he just made a noise in his throat and hauled Jak onto the lift. It rumbled to life and took them up to the throne room.

Damas was sitting on his throne, glaring at a map as if it had insulted his parentage. He looked up when the trio entered the room. "Ah. You're back, good. I was getting worried, I think a storm might be coming soon." He inhaled sharply. "Is Jak…?"

Damas eyed the teenager. He was pale and shaking, odd for the usually steady Jak. "What happened?" he asked Sig.

Sig dropped Jak beside the pool, where he laid his head back against the stone pillar. Daxter reached down and started to cup water in his hands, urging his friend to drink.

"Dunno," Sig said grimly. "But it's getting worse. In the hour long drive back to the city, he threw up a bunch and then practically passed out on me." Sig nodded to the king. "Any monks around to help him?"

Damas frowned. "Not at the moment. They're all at the Temple right now, meditating in seclusion."

He walked over to where Jak was now pressing his flushed cheek against the pillar. Damas reached down and pressed the back of his fingers to the Jak's forehead. His frown deepened.

"What?" Daxter asked. "What now?"

"He's hot to the touch." Damas swept a lock of the boy's hair back, where it clung to the side of his face. "Do you see? He's sweating like an animal."

"Heat stroke?" Sig suggested. Damas shook his head. "What's wrong with him?"

"Sickness," Damas said simply. "A fever brought on this suddenly is never good. He didn't seem any different from normal before he set out."

"Jak? Jak, are you gonna die?" Daxter wailed and shook his friend's collar. "Oh, the humanity! Who will make me lunch now?!"

"…Ugh…" Jak's eyes rolled and he closed them again. Daxter let out a loud, melodramatic cry.

"Knock it off, furball," Sig ordered. "Jak'll be fine, he just needs some rest. Right, Damas?" Damas was still frowning, which only worried Sig more. "You think he needs a medic?"

"Sig. Take him to Ionna." Damas' voice was low and grim. "It could subside, but I'd rather not take the chance. She'll be able to help him."

"Got it." Sig glanced down. "Uh…I guess I'll have to carry him."

"Hey! Why don't you just get this lady to come up here to help him?" Daxter snapped. Damas' frown turned into a twisted snarl. "Heh heh…just a suggestion, Your Sandiness."

"…Ionna will not come to the palace at my beck and call," he responded. "She has other Wastelanders to attend to, many of whom require almost constant care. Get moving."

Sig heaved Jak up into his arms, surprised by how light the kid was. Sure, Jak had never been a big guy, but he felt like a child in Sig's arms. Daxter climbed up to sit on Jak's chest.

"Check back here to update me on his condition once she takes a look at him," Damas directed. Sig nodded as he stepped onto the lift. The last thing he saw before he left the palace was Damas staring after him, a strange kind of concern on his face.

* * *

The world was a swirling mess of darkness and light.

Jak wasn't sure what was real and what was in his mind. He was certain that his eyes were open, but his vision kept fading in and out, swirling around him like a dream.

He was moving, he thought, or maybe it just seemed that way. Hazy voices drifted through the fog, murmurs about monks and water. There were also some ghostly voices, whispering as they spoke of eco and prophecies and sages and…

…and everything went dark again.

* * *

The medic center that Ionna ran was a tiny place in the wall of Spargus. Beds lined the main room, with thin curtains that gave the patient a bit of privacy. There was a long counter, with a stone basin in it and a water pump beside it. Sig had been there a few times for some of his nastier encounters with metalheads, as well as once when he'd had some trouble sleeping.

"Sig, surprised to see you." The voice that floated through the room was soft and clear. "Not hurt again, I hope?"

"Not me." Sig grimaced and set Jak down in one of the empty beds. Daxter anxiously hovered on the edge, his head whipping between the two. "Jak here is sick. Anything you can do to help?"

The woman—Ionna—reached down and pulled one of his eyelids open and hummed. "Tell me what happened."

Sig explained the situation, while Ionna pumped some water into a bowl. She glanced down at Daxter and frowned.

"No pets," she said firmly. "Sig, take it back with you."

"Hey! I'm not a pet!" Daxter snapped. As people tended to be, Ionna was surprised when he spoke. "Jak's my sidekick, I'll have you know, and I'm not going anywhere."

"…No rat fur on anything, you hear?" She placed the bowl beside the bed and brought out a soft cloth.

"Whatever." Daxter huffed indignantly. "Can you help Jak or not?"

"We'll see." She dipped the cloth into the water and gently placed it on his forehead. "Let's cool him down first."

"He gonna be alright? I think Damas is worried." Sig leaned on his Peacemaker. "I dunno what happened."

"He has some kind of an infection," Ionna said evenly. She reached into a cabinet and pulled out a tin container. "Probably been festering for a while, and now it's gotten too bad for his body to fight off on its own. Like I said, we'll wait and see if he needs more treatment, or if he's okay with rest."

She popped the tin open and pulled out a small pill. "Antibiotics. Do you have to report to Damas?" she asked Sig.

He nodded. "Yeah. Listen, I'll check back in later, but…take care of him. He's a good kid."

Sig nodded to Daxter and left. Ionna put the pill in a glass of water and stirred it, dissolving the pill. She pressed the glass to Jak's lips and he swallowed automatically. As she set the glass aside, she pursed her lips and pressed her hand against his cheek. Daxter looked up at her.

"What? What now?" He paced along Jak's chest, literally wringing his hands. "Ah, geez, he's dying! He's dead! He's a zombie!"

"Does your mouth ever close?" Ionna huffed out a breath of air and stood. "His fever is a little higher than I'd like, that's all. I'd like to bring it down as quickly as possible."

Ionna reached into the cabinet and pulled out a bottle of liquid light eco. Strange, she thought. The eco seemed to be…energetic today. It was hot to the touch and was vibrating in the bottle. "I need you to move away from him," she told the animal. He hurumphed and turned away from her, refusing to leave.

"No way!" he said loudly. She rolled her eyes.

"I cannot treat him if you don't get away from him." She gave the animal a stern glare. He gulped and jumped onto the bedside table. "Thank you. Now, this treatment will exhaust him, so I suggest you be quiet around him, so as to not wake him."

She was wary of giving a person too much light eco—it was easy to overload a body with it. She didn't even really want to give it, but the boy's fever was too high. Whatever infection he had, he needed something stronger than just regular medicines.

Ionna uncorked the bottle.

Like a magnet, without her direction, the eco zoomed out of the bottle. She gasped, attempting to snatch it out of the air, but it was already heading straight for the bed-ridden boy. "No!"

The eco hit his body and sunk into him. Instead of what she expected—a shout of pain, a gasp of breath, she had even seen seizures—the boy just inhaled and exhaled deeply, while the light eco settled in his body.

His breathing eased up and some of the tension in his face dissipated. Nothing besides that happened, and the rat didn't seem to notice anything unusual. Ionna stepped away, the empty bottle in her hand shaking.

Was _this_ the boy Seem had warned her about? The boy who was tainted by dark eco…the one Seem claimed could turn into a monster?

Then…why was he channeling _light_ eco?

* * *

The world was blinding.

Jak wasn't really sure where or _when_ he was. There was Samos, sitting by his bed one minute, then a buck-toothed, human Daxter standing with his hands on his hips, then he morphed into Gol Acheron with a harsh laugh, that turned into the cold, cruel one of Erol.

He was hot. He was cold. He was nothing.

Fuck, he was spinning. He felt like he was going to vomit.

He did.

* * *

There were several times that Jak vaguely remembered sitting up, leaning over to be violently sick, and then passing back out. A few times, he was awake enough to feel someone giving him water to greedily gulp down.

But he didn't fully wake up for several days, until the bright morning sunlight burst through his eyelids. He gave a loud groan and lifted his arm over his head. Great Precursors, he felt like hell.

"Hold on, child, don't sit up just yet." He heard a woman's voice, followed by some banging around, before he felt a presence beside him.

The woman was gentle, her thin hands wiping his forehead with a cool cloth. Jak blearily opened his eyes.

"..What happened…?"

"You fell ill," she said. "Sig brought you in, said none of the monks were a help to you." Her voice had the coarse, rough quality that all Wastelanders' did, but it was softer and quieter. She reached up and checked his forehead.

"Your fever's gone down, good. It broke last night. You're recovering nicely, I must say."

Jak went to sit up and immediately regretted it. He felt his empty stomach flip and gagged on bile. The woman grabbed a bucket she had set aside and held it out for him. He took advantage of it.

When he finished vomiting, the woman pointed to a small table beside the bed. "Water and a cloth. Rinse out your mouth and spit."

Of course, with his impeccable timing, that was when Daxter decided to wake up and screech, "Jak, you're alive!"

Jak almost swallowed the water, but the woman quickly slapped his back. He spit it out in a spray and coughed. "D—Daxter, geez! Don't scare me."

"Don't scare you? _Don't scare you?!"_ Daxter leapt up on the bed and shook Jak's shoulders. "You throw up organs out of your body, but _I scared you?_ Gah!"

"You're exaggerating, Dax," Jak said wearily. "It wasn't that bad."

"You should listen to your friend," Ionna chastised him. She stood up and folded her arms. "Fevers like this are nothing to laugh at, especially not in the desert heat."

Jak turned to look at the woman for the first time. She started moving around the room, putting bottles and crates back into the cupboards where they belonged. Jak could only see glimpses of her as she flitted about, quickly getting work done.

She was paler than most of the other Wastelanders, who were usually some level of tan from the desert sun. Her long hair was a sun-bleached blonde, almost white, and was tied at the nape of her neck. Her bangs were pinned back with a headband made of sparkling green seaglass; oddly, she was also barefoot, not wearing the normal boots that Wastelanders wore. It was hard to tell how old she was—much like the other Wastelanders, sun and stress had aged her. However, she looked just as tough as any of the others, with a rifle strapped to her back and several knives on her belt.

"…Thanks," Jak said awkwardly. "Um…what do I owe you?"

Because nothing came free in the world. Not in Haven, not in Spargus. The woman gave him a sideways look.

"It's fine," she said finally. "I owe Sig a favor. I am Ionna, by the way. A medic."

Silence descended over the room as Ionna continued to put things away. Jak shrugged at Daxter and rinsed his mouth out again, trying to get the bitter taste of sick out of it.

"Damn it!" There was the sound of glass breaking as Ionna dropped one of the bottles she'd been holding. Eco spilled out, a silvery-blue puddle on the floor. Jak could sense it and almost gasped.

"Is that…light eco?" The familiar pull seemed to spark through him, wanting to absorb it and take it for himself. He shuddered and pushed the sensation away. "Why do you have that?"

"Healing purposes," she replied. He watched in astonishment as she reached down, gently extended her palm, and picked up the eco. It didn't go into her body, as it did to Jak, but it swirled around in her palm. She guided the eco into another empty bottle with careful, steady hands. Both of the boys were speechless as she capped the bottle and started to sweep up the glass, seemingly oblivious to their stunned faces.

"You some kinda monk?" Daxter asked her.

"Mmm. Of sorts." The woman didn't seem keen on talking about it. "I wouldn't call myself that, however. I'm just very talented with light eco."

"Eh, Jak can do that with his eyes closed!" Daxter nudged his friend. "Right, Jak?"

"…No, Dax." He was still staring, wide-eyed, at Ionna. "I can't."

It was a funny thing, channeling eco. It had always come naturally to Jak, but it was a very…rudimentary type of channeling. Growing up, Jak had always envied how easily Samos could manipulate green eco. Jak could pull it in and let it go through his body, but Samos could _move_ it. He could push and pull it, send it streaming across the room. He could collect it, store it, crystallize it, and liquefy it.

Meanwhile, all Jak could do was use it.

Not even the monks and Onin could control eco like Samos—and Ionna, he supposed—could. They used soft touches, sparks and flits of eco. As if they could feel it and move it around, but never really hold onto it. No, just like Jak, they could only use it, never capture it.

"Are you a sage?" he blurted out. Ionna almost dropped the bottle again. "An eco sage?"

"A sage?" Daxter shrieked. "Ugh, we already got one of those! And let me tell you, he's a pain in my—!"

"I shouldn't be surprised you noticed," Ionna mused. "You clearly have an affinity for eco, as well. But I don't know that you could call me a sage, however talented I am with eco."

Ionna walked over the bed and reached out to check Jak's temperature again. "Hmm…you're still warm, but I'd say you're almost back up to snuff. Three more days."

"Three days?!" Daxter shouted. A loud moan came from another bed and Ionna glared at him. "Heh heh…I mean, three days?"

Three days? Jak shifted in the bed and grimaced. He hated being confined to one spot for too long. The last time had been when he was a child, and Samos had fished him and Daxter out of the sea. He'd been stung by a jelly-eel and was out of commission for almost a week.

"You don't seem to understand, young man." Ionna turned her stern gaze on Jak, who felt like a misbehaving child. "You almost died."

"What was wrong with me, anyway?" Jak grumbled.

"An infection," she said simply. "Probably from a wound you got on a mission. It happens a lot with Wastelanders, but yours was particularly bad."

There was another loud moan and Ionna went to go take care of that person. Jak and Daxter both sighed in unison.

"Well, buddy, I guess we're stuck here for the time being." Daxter hopped up on his friend's shoulder. "Wanna play hangman?"

"This is stupid," Jak said. "She can't stop me from leaving." He stood up—ignoring the fact that his vision spun when he did—and started for the door.

There was a single, loud, echoing clap, followed by a brilliant light flashing in front of him. Out of nowhere, Ionna appeared in front of him. She lifted her chin and placed a hand on his chest.

"Oh, can't I?"


	2. Chapter 2

_Ahh, I had no idea people would like my weird rambly fanfiction! I'm so glad. Thank you guys! I'm really having fun writing again._

 _Happy reading!_

* * *

Jak froze, in total shock, because he'd never seen it from the outside.

 _That was light eco._

A thousand and one questions bombarded his mind, all of them some variation of _what the hell?!_

"You are in no condition to be up and about." Ionna grabbed his upper arm and spun him around, dumping him back on the bed. With a loud grunt, he landed on his stomach, face-down in the pillow. "You're staying here."

Jak rolled over and tried to stand up, but the world spun around him, so he sat back down. Instead, he stared at her, blinking in confusion.

"How…how can you do that?" he asked quietly. "You changed…you transformed."

"I told you. I'm talented with eco." She folded her arms and gave him a stern look. "Years of practice with it allows me to do that. Now, lie back down and get some rest."

"You can't keep me here," Jak repeated stubbornly. "I don't care how good you are with eco."

"Try me, child." Ionna glared at him. "Until I'm certain you're fully recovered, you stay here."

Jak stood up again, ignoring that Daxter gave a nervous chuckle. "Look, you really don't want to get into a fight with me."

Ionna simply folded her arms.

Jak walked towards her and stretched his arm out to shove her aside.

She clapped her hands again. The light flashed, power reverberating through his bones, and then Jak found himself face down on the floor, one arm twisted behind his back and Ionna pinning him down.

"What the fu—?!" He snarled, but for some reason, the darkness didn't seem to boil to the surface like it usually would.

"I warned you," she said calmly. "You. Are staying. Here."

She let him up from the ground, and he stood up. He stumbled on his feet, almost falling back down immediately. He felt his stomach heave, but didn't (thankfully!) vomit again. Ionna took advantage and guided him back to bed.

"Rest." That was all she said as she settled him on the bed and went over to tend to another patient.

Drained, Jak fell back against the pillows with a thump. His friend hopped up and settled on his shoulder.

"She used light eco." Jak glanced at Daxter. "That was the flash freeze that I got."

"Maybe she got some goofy statues to shine a flashlight on her, too." Daxter lounged against the side of Jak's head. "What's the big deal, anyway? So some old crotchety nurse can go all glowy, whoopee."

Jak started to reply, but he felt his head start to spin again. "Ugh…Dax, how long was I out?" He pressed his palms against his temples and groaned.

Uh…two days." Daxter paused, then continued, unnaturally serious, "Maybe you better do what she says, Jak. Take a few days off, relax a bit, get better."

As he slouched down, Jak had to admit, he really didn't feel great. The thought of going into the desert, in the bright sun and heat, made his stomach churn. He flexed his fist angrily and sighed.

"Geez." Jak closed his eyes and frowned. "I feel like crap. She's right, I'm useless like this."

"Eh, don't sweat it," Daxter said, patting his shoulder. "Take it from me: you're pretty useless when you're at full health!"

Jak pulled the blanket up over his shoulders. "Thanks, Dax. I appreciate that."

* * *

Jak fell asleep quickly, still achy and tired. He woke up a bit in the afternoon, ate some soup at Daxter's urging, and then fell back asleep again. The rest of the day passed with him going in and out, hazily opening his eyes long enough to roll over and close them again. His dreams were filled with the lush, bright colors of Sandover, interspersed with the earth tones of Spargus' desert and the cold, grey metal of Haven.

There was a voice that floated through his dreams, one that he automatically paired with the sound of echoing precursor metal and the hum of eco. A deep voice that talked of _light_ and called him a _hero._

Even in his dreams, he tried to protest, but the damned thing wouldn't listen.

His dreams were shattered, as they always were, by a familiar voice shouting.

"Ugh, that's not even a word!"

Jak bolted up in his bed, jerked out of sleep by Daxter's shrill voice. "What the hell?!" His hands automatically reached behind his back to grab the morph gun, before realizing it wasn't there. His heart slowed a bit, recognizing that he wasn't in danger here: he was in Spargus, in an infirmary, sick as a dog, safe as a child.

"It most certainly is a word." Ionna's calm voice cut through Daxter's. "It's a plant."

"How do you even pronounce that?" Daxter yelled. Jak flinched, his head still pounding and making Daxter seem even louder than usual. "Quin-o-ah?"

"Keen-wah." Ionna said it slowly before turning towards Jak. "Your friend needs to read more."

Jak blinked. It was a surreal sight: Ionna and Daxter were sitting at a small table, playing some kind of game with letter tiles. Ionna was clearly winning, with a considerable pile of them on her side of the table. "Um…"

"We got bored waiting for you wake up from your nap," Daxter explained. "So the good doctor here broke out a game to play."

"You slept for a good time," Ionna said, gathering up the tiles. She swept them into a bag and stashed the bag in a cabinet above her head. "I had to keep him out of trouble, lest he give one of my patients a rage stroke."

"…What time is it?" Jak asked, rubbing his aching neck.

"Almost 8 pm. You've been asleep for the entire day." Ionna handed Daxter a heating pad, which he gave to Jak. "Are you feeling any better?"

"Yeah." Jak set the pad on his neck and sighed. It eased the soreness in the muscles. "Thanks."

Ionna turned back to the water pump. "In a better mood, I hope?"

Jak frowned and Daxter held back a snicker. "Yeah. Sorry for...being kind of a jerk."

"Apology accepted. Take this." Ionna was holding out a glass of water and a small white pill. "It'll kick the infection for good."

"Ah…" Jak hesitantly took the glass and the medicine. "…I'll be fine. Got any green eco?"

"Antibiotics will work better," she insisted.

Jak stared at the glass, then took the pill and a drink. For a minute, he felt the pill slip down his throat. Then it came back up and then he started to gag.

He spit the water and pill out back into the glass. Coughing, he said, "I…can't swallow pills."

Ionna blinked. "You…?"

"I've never been able to," he snapped. He felt a blush rise to his face. "I never needed to."

Because green eco had always done the trick. Sickness or injury, Samos had always been able to heal him within a day or two. Other villagers had to take typical medicine—the farmer got salves and oils for his aches and pains, the Explorer got a cure-all potion for whatever weird injury he got on his travels, and Daxter always got pills to combat his headaches and fevers—but Jak always got a dose of green eco and was up and running again.

She frowned and took the glass back. "Hold on."

She went back to the counter and there was the clinking of glass. She returned a few moments later with a now cloudy glass of water. "Here. Drink this."

Jak took a drink. The water tasted bitter and had a chalky texture to it. He finished, despite the terrible taste, and handed the glass back. "What did you do?"

"Crushed the pill and dissolved it into the water." She washed the glass and set it aside. "I do it for children who are too young to take pills."

"Oh." Jak fidgeted with his fingers, an old habit. "I mean…I'm not a kid."

"I know you're not a kid, but you still need the antibiotics." She reached out her hand and felt his forehead. "Good, the fever's going down. You're sounding much better, too."

"Of course he is!" Daxter reached up and pinched Jak's cheek playfully. Jak swatted him away. "Look at him, he's in perfect condition! He's even got some color in his cheeks!"

"Knock it off," Jak grumbled. Daxter laughed and flopped back on one of the pillows. "Geez."

Ionna smiled at Daxter's antics, amused. "Alright, I want you to eat something. Nothing solid, but some broth will do."

Jak nodded. He didn't feel hungry, but he didn't feel queasy anymore, either. She came back a half hour later with a bowl of some kind of yellow broth and he settled in to eat it. It was spicy and flavorful, a far cry from the bland meals of Haven City.

By the time he was finished, Daxter had curled up on the pillows and fallen asleep. Jak, however, didn't feel tired at all.

"It's understandable. You've been asleep all day." Ionna was folding up clean sheets for an empty bed nearby. "If you need something to keep yourself occupied, there's some paper in the drawer over there. I've got a few books, some games…just be quiet so others can rest."

So, as night fell and Ionna herself went to bed, Jak decided to draw. It started out as doodles—the oracles, Daxter, a misshapen blob that should have been a metal head. But he got bored with that easily and started searching for something else to do. He'd never been much of a reader, and all the games seemed uninteresting without Daxter there to be a sore loser.

Jak's eyes fell on one of the shelves, where a dozen bottles of light eco were neatly lined up.

He stretched out his hand, sensing the eco that was inside. The eco automatically wanted to come to him; it was making the bottles shake as it tried to get out. He knew he could easily make it shatter the containers and shoot straight to him.

But, he wondered, could he make it go the other way?

He reached his hand out, trying it mimic the movements he'd seen Ionna make earlier. It had been graceful, almost, the way the eco obeyed her every command. He pushed his hands away from his body, hoping he would see the bottle move away, too.

The eco didn't do anything besides shake harder. He frowned, annoyed, and swept his hand again. The bottle closest to him moved slightly, scraping against the wooden shelf.

"C'mon," he growled softly. He made a hard, jerky swipe at the bottle, causing it to abruptly shoot across the room and smash against the wall. The light eco spilled out and zoomed straight towards him. "Gah!"

"You're trying too hard."

Jak almost jumped out of his skin. Over in the doorway, Ionna was watching him, shrouded in shadows. He had no idea how long she had been watching him, her arms folded and a smirk on her face.

"Wh—what does that mean?" He felt his face get hot as she walked over to the shelf. "Trying too hard seems like a good thing."

"Not with eco, I'm afraid." She reached over and grabbed another bottle, bringing it to his bedside. "Eco is much more natural. It's intuitive, and trying too hard simply frustrates you."

She opened the bottle and the eco poured out into the air, following her languid hand motions. Jak watched, enthralled, as it followed her hand, twisting through the air before finally going back into the bottle.

"It's amazing," he whispered. Ionna smiled.

"You try." She held the bottle out for him and he hesitated. "Go on. I've seen you absorb it, you have the ability to control it."

"Look, I was just messing around. This isn't my kind of thing."

Ionna sighed and forced the bottle into his hand. "How would you know? You just tried it."

Jak inhaled and gripped the bottle tighter. He could feel the eco, struggling to get out towards him. He raised his hand, trying to make his movements as light and fluid as Ionna's. At first, the eco started to trickle out of the bottle, slowly and without going straight for him. He smiled and jerked his hand away from himself.

Which sent the eco straight across the room, where it boomeranged back towards him. He absorbed it with a grunt.

"I told you," he said, annoyed. "Not what I'm good at."

"You're thinking like a warrior," she mused. "Trying to control the eco. But eco can't be controlled. However, it's…malleable. You can lead it where you want it to go."

 _Malleable…? Why did that sound familiar…?_ "Like water," Jak said. "It flows."

"Exactly," she told him as she reached for another bottle. He raised an eyebrow. "It flows. You cannot force a river to turn, but you can guide it into a lake."

"Got it." Jak took the bottle and steeled himself. "Okay."

"Wait. Before you do so, take a breath." Ionna inhaled deeply and Jak followed suit. "Relax and let your mind empty. Once you are ready, then you can take the eco out."

Jak closed his eyes and followed her breathing. He tried his best to clear his mind of everything. Eventually, he opened his eyes and said, "Alright, I'm ready."

He uncapped the bottle. He slowly pulled the eco out and waved his hand around. The eco followed his movements, circling in the air around him. He spun it a few times, enthralled by the colors that shone through it, and finally tipped his hand. The eco went back into the bottle and he capped it off, pleased with himself.

"Nice job." Ionna beamed at him and he smiled back. "You learn very quickly. Tell me, have you always been able to channel eco?"

"Yeah. I used to do a lot when I was a kid." Days long gone by, he thought, remembering the feeling of stepping into a blue eco vent and feeling like he was on top of the world. "Now I only do it with light eco and dark eco."

Ionna looked shocked. " _Dark_ eco? You've channeled dark eco?"

He suddenly felt foolish. He hadn't meant to admit it. "You got a problem with that?" he snarled.

 _Eco freak._

 _Lunatic._

 _Monster._

"Please, child, you act as if I should be afraid of you." Ionna shook her head. "No, I was just curious because…well, it's unusual. I've never heard of anyone who could tap into both light and dark eco. You should be careful. It's very dangerous."

"Yeah. I know." Jak folded his arms. "Trust me."

He watched her for a moment, trying to decipher her facial expression. Like most of the Wastelanders he'd met, Ionna didn't seem fazed by his sudden aggression. It seemed like something they were all used to. There was no disgust, no fear, nothing like what he had seen in Haven City.

She stood up, taking the bottle of light eco with her. "It's nearly 2 AM. Your sleep schedule is going to be off, so I suggest getting some sleep in now. I'll wake you up tomorrow morning for more antibiotics."

Jak watched her go back to bed. He settled back in the pillows and closed his eyes, trying to force himself into sleep. He was met with another round of strange dreams, this time the voice echoing about _balance_ and _danger_ and _fate._


	3. Chapter 3

_To all the awesome people reading, thanks! And I hope you enjoy._

 _Here we go!_

* * *

By the time Jak woke up, the morning was in full swing. Daxter was already awake, dancing to something on the old radio that was playing. He could distantly hear the sounds of glasses clinking together. His eyes took a few minutes to refocus and adjust.

"Morning, sunshine!" Daxter jumped onto Jak's chest and peered into his face. "Feelin' better?"

Jak sat up and swallowed. His throat was parched, but the headache and nausea that had plagued him earlier was gone. "Yeah," he rasped. "Actually, I do."

He got out of bed and stood up. The world stayed steady around him, for which he was grateful. He went to the water pump and got a tin cup full of water.

"I'm glad to see you're up and about." Jak glanced over to see Ionna, a tray of medicine in her hands. She set it down while he gulped down a drink. A few seconds later, she handed him another glass with crushed up pills dissolved in it. "Drink up."

Jak obeyed, still shuddering at the strange taste and texture. "There. How many more of those do I have to drink?"

"Just one more. I'll give it to you tomorrow morning, then you can leave." There was a call from another bed and Ionna disappeared to help the patient.

Jak wondered back over to his bed. "Well, Dax, now what?"

"Just relax," his friend said soothingly. He picked up a thick, academic—looking book and handed it to Jak. "Here, read some of these doctor books. Check out page 23, it's really cool!"

Page 23, as it turned out, had an anatomically correct diagram of a male prostate on it, which caused Jak to roll his eyes and Daxter to laugh uproariously. Jak shut the book and almost threw it at him.

"If you're bored and want something to do," Ionna said, suddenly appearing at the foot of the bed, "then you can start making med kits. Damas likes to replace everyone's kits every few months, just in case, so you can imagine how many we have to put together."

She brought him a stack of small boxes, each about the size of a pencil box. Each box needed a set of medical supplies, she explained. Bandages, a jar of salve, a bottle of disinfectant, a syringe full of anesthetic, a cold pack, and a small vial of green eco.

"Hey, how come we gotta do your work?" Daxter complained. "We go out all day, running around in the desert, gettin' sand in places we don't want sand! And you make us do more work when we're sick."

"Consider it payment," Ionna said evenly. "For saving your life."

"Didn't save my life," Daxter grumbled, but Jak couldn't argue, so they got to work.

The rote, thoughtless work gave the pair a chance to talk. At first, it started with simple chatter—mostly by Daxter—but it eventually turned back to their life in Sandover.

"I'm just saying," Daxter said, tossing a roll of bandages to his friend, "I miss the ocean! The good ocean, not this gross monster ocean." He made a face and Jak laughed. "Seriously! It's full of weird sea monsters!"

"Sandover had the lurker shark," Jak reminded him. "It's not that different." He gently set the roll of bandages into the box and sealed it. He set it aside in the finished pile. "I actually miss Snowy Mountain more."

"Really? That place?" Daxter rolled his eyes. "Ugh, that place suuuucked!"

Jak picked up an empty box. "I mean, it never snows in Haven. It sure doesn't snow around here."

As they talked, the door opened, a bell above ringing. A boy walked in, glancing around. "Miss? Miss, I'm here for the morning run!"

The boy was fairly young, maybe 13 years old, tall and skinny. He gazed around the infirmary. When his eyes landed on Jak, his chest puffed out in pride and his hands immediately went to a beaten leather satchel at his side. He nodded at Jak (in what he must have thought was a stoic manner) and said in a self-important voice, "I deliver the medicine to folks. Just here to pick some up, warrior."

"Huh." Jak locked eyes with Daxter, who was biting his lip to keep from laughing. "That's a pretty important job."

The boy's dark eyes lit up. "Yeah! It is!"

Ionna came up just as Daxter gave a snort of laughter. Jak slapped his hand over the ottsel's mouth.

"Good morning, Rios." She handed him three different vials of medicine and watched him gently settle them into his bag. Once he was all together, she handed him a few metal coins that he excitedly pocketed. "Make sure you watch Lyle take his. He's a stubborn old man, likes to think he's invincible."

Rios nodded. "Yes, Miss. Anything else you need?"

"No, Savara is stopping by after lunch. But thank you, that's very kind."

Rios nodded to both Ionna and Jak before turning around, briskly walking out into Spargus. Jak removed his hand and Daxter burst into laughter.

"Oh, man, kids crack me up!"

Ionna smiled warmly. "Yes, Rios is…very proud of what he can do for Spargus. He's already been caught trying to go fight Marauders. At least this keeps him out of trouble."

Rios' arrival seemed to signal some kind of change in the daily routine. People started coming in after that, the bell chiming above them acting as a warning. Most of them didn't pay any attention to Jak; several recognized him and gave him the silent nod of respect that Wastelanders gave each other as a greeting.

Jak was surprised by how many Wastelanders stopped by; it seemed like there was a never-ending stream of people looking for Ionna's help. She spent her day dealing with various citizens, taking the time in between to refill vials and mix up medicine.

A mother with her young child, who had hurt her wrist climbing the rocks, quickly had it wrapped and braced before being sent on her way. An older man with a cough was given thick syrup to drink, but warned not to drink it all at once. Three very dehydrated, very sun burnt young Wastelanders were given a stern talking to about how the desert was different than the city, a jar of green aloe, and plenty of water.

A mechanic with stitches, an infant with a temperature, even a worn-out warrior who just asked for a bed were all given what they needed and sent on their way.

All, Jak noticed, without paying anything to Ionna.

"How come you don't charge anyone?" he asked her during a lull. He and Daxter had made several dozen med kits by now, stacked up in rows beside his bed. Ionna was calmly measuring out ingredients for some kind of paste. "No one is paying you for everything you're doing."

"Yeah, you'd make a killin'!" Daxter said. "You could have anything you want! You could have a swimming pool…with a diving board…full of chocolate…" Jak rolled his eyes, but Ionna did answer his question.

"Out here," she said, still focused on her task, "disease and injury are as common as sand and sun. If I charged for my services, a lot of people would die. I'm afraid I can't abide by that."

"So how do you eat?" Daxter asked. "No money, no food, right?"

Ionna capped the bottle she was working on and pulled out a pen to label it. "Well, for starters, Wastelanders like to trade. This isn't Haven, where only money gets you goods. I have a lot of things lying around that people are more than willing to barter for."

She held up the jar with satisfaction. "And, secondly, I don't make _these_ for my health. I sell them to some of my contacts in Haven, and a few in Kras City. They fetch a fair price."

They were cut off from their conversation by a frantic woman with two toddlers, both of them speckled with some kind of rash. Ionna led them away for some kind of bath soak, leaving Jak and Daxter to themselves.

It eventually died down again around lunchtime. Another teenager came by, this one a girl, to deliver medicine. Ionna gave Jak some meat stew to eat and monitored him as he did so.

"I feel fine," he said as he stuffed another spoonful in his mouth. He was _starving._ "Seriously," he added as she gave him a skeptical look.

"Not nauseous? Queasy?"

He shook his head and swallowed his food. "Nope, perfectly fine."

Ionna nodded, pleased. "Good. You're making a full recovery."

She started eating her own bowl, sitting in the chair nearby and resting her bare feet in a basin of hot water. Things were quiet: Jak was the only patient left, as the others had been discharged.

Of course, Daxter didn't really _do_ quiet.

"You know, you never gave us a real answer," Daxter said to her. "Why are you so good with eco?"

Ionna's hands stilled and Jak feared Daxter had upset her. However, she quickly resumed eating and said, "At one point, I was in the monks, training to become the sage of light eco. Nowadays, I just try to put my skills to good use."

"You used to be a sage?" Jak asked.

"No, I used to be an acolyte," she corrected. "There's a lot involved in being a sage. I never made it that far."

"What happened?"

"Praxis. War. The Wasteland." Ionna shrugged. "Take your pick. I gave up a lot just trying to survive."

She didn't say anything more, and her demeanor told Jak that she wasn't going to. He let it drop.

Daxter, however…

"I'm glad you're not a goofy monk," he said. "Those guys are ca-ray-zee."

"Ha. Crazy, they may be, but I was trained as one." She gave a wistful smile and sighed. "I was one of them since I was a little girl in Haven City. Back then, I never dreamed I'd be where I am now."

"There were monks in Haven?" Jak leaned forward, curious. He'd never heard of the Precursor monks before stumbling into Spargus. "We knew a sage there, but he wasn't a monk."

Ionna blinked. "Huh. Now that's interesting." She shrugged and took another bite. "Well, I've never met a sage who _wasn't_ trained as a monk, but that doesn't mean anything. The power to become a sage comes from the eco, not the training."

"His name was Samos. Know him?" Ionna shook her head. Jak gave Daxter a look. "Huh. Wonder what he isn't telling us."

"Ha!" Daxter rolled his eyes. "Knowing him, probably a lot."

"What happened?" Jak asked. "Were the monks banished?"

"Hmm…not exactly." Ionna gently set her empty bowl and spoon aside. "A long time ago, the leader of the monks ordered us to come out here to the desert temple, and wait until Damas arrived to lead him to Spargus. She had a vision of the future and warned us that we had to help him."

Jak and Daxter gave each other a curious look. The only person they knew with any powers like that was sitting in Haven, cross—legged in a tent.

"…Onin?" Jak guessed. Ionna looked surprised. "We've met her before."

"I didn't know she was still alive," Ionna said, stunned. "She had to stay behind in Haven due to her age, so I just figured…"

Ionna went quiet: she appeared to be thinking about something, her eyes faraway. Finally, she asked, "Did…did Onin send you out here?"

Jak shook his head. "No, that was…" He shrugged. "Someone else. But I'll be she and Samos both knew what would happen."

He felt a rush of anger suddenly. _Of course_ Samos knew what would happen. And he hadn't stopped it, he'd just let Jak be banished and thrown out into the desert and die…

His angry thoughts fizzled out as Daxter said loudly, "Hey, can we talk about something else? Not to be rude, but all this monk babble is boring me." He hopped down to the foot of Jak's bed. "Ooh, ooh, I know! Let's talk about us! Or even better, let's talk about me!"

Jak rolled his eyes, but Ionna chuckled. "Well, if you're going to interrogate me, I'll return the favor." She smiled at Jak. "Where do your talents for light eco come from?"

Jak stiffened. "I…I've always been able to channel," he said truthfully. "I wasn't trained or anything. I just…did it."

"Interesting." Ionna didn't tell him what was interesting, but she continued, "And you mentioned the same affinity for dark eco, too. I've never met anyone with such an innate ability to channel."

"Hey, hey!" Daxter waved his furry paws in the air. "What about me? You know, _I_ won the Haven Racing Championship," he bragged. "Yep, I raced our way to victory! There was a few times it looked kind of hairy, but I pulled through…"

Jak folded his arms and sat back against the pillows, letting Daxter's prattling turn into background noise. He glanced over at Ionna.

She looked strange…almost worried about something. She had a faraway look on her face, as if she were trying to figure out a puzzle she just couldn't quite grasp. Jak watched her for a moment, before she suddenly looked up and stared directly at him, eyes intent on him.

He turned away, focusing on Daxter instead. He didn't really have time to worry about the weirdness of monks or former sages or whatever. He had enough on his plate.

Still…he couldn't help but feel that he _should_ worry about it.

* * *

The rest of the day was relatively peaceful. There was a rush of patients who came in later in the day, but, as Ionna explained, that was usually when the Wastelanders returned from their missions. It wasn't until almost sundown that people stopped coming in.

"I have somewhere I have to go," Ionna announced suddenly. Both boys glanced up at her uneasily. "Don't worry," she assured them. "I very rarely have patients come in around this time."

She started to strap on her boots. Jak hesitated, not sure what he wanted to say, but Daxter beat him to it.

"Hey!" he shouted. "You can't just ditch us! What if some poor guy comes in here missing an arm or something? I'm not sewing any limbs back on!"

Ionna rolled her eyes. "I figured you wouldn't want to be here alone." She wrapped a scarf around her neck, poising it to cover her mouth. "I already called for someone to take my place. Another Wastelander should be here in a few minutes to keep an eye on things."

"You going into the desert?" Jak asked. Ionna nodded. "Safe trip."

"Right." She gave them both a stern look. "Don't you two get into any trouble. _I mean it._ "

With that, Ionna went out the door, the bell chiming as she stepped out. Jak watched her leave, then gave Daxter a mischievous grin.

"I'm not going to get into any trouble. How about you, Dax?"

Daxter folded his arms and smirked. "I would never! But, if, say, we found something to throw…?"

"…And something to throw into?" Jak finished.

"Well, we could just…practice our aim!" Daxter leapt down onto the floor and scampered away to search the infirmary."Yeah, we won't get into any trouble at all!"

"Right." Jak grinned and started digging around in the drawer nearby. "No trouble at all."

* * *

"There ya are." Kleiver banged on the hood of the Dune Hopper and handed the keys to Ionna. "Don't break me buggy."

"I was going to sink it into the sea," she replied, climbing into the front seat. Kleiver grimaced at her. "Just joking. I'll bring it back safe and sound."

"Great. Don't get eaten, either." He wiped his hands on a rag and walked away as she started the buggy up. He gave her a salute as he headed into the garage, which she returned before heading out into the desert.

* * *

"Alright, bullseye!" Daxter jumped up and whooped in the air. "I'm winning, Jak!"

Jak grumbled and picked up another tongue depressor. "By, like, two points." He took aim at the bedpan that was leaning against the wall and flung the tongue depressor. It made a dull thunk as it hit the edge and bounced off. "Shit!"

"Ooh, swing and a miss! Looks like Orange Lightning is up." Daxter threw the next one, which missed the bedpan completely and hit the wall. "Aw!"

"Yes!" Jak picked one up and was about to throw it, when the door opened. He glanced over and was surprised by the newcomer. "Damas? What are you doing?"

"What am I doing?" Damas looked around the room, confused. "What are _you_ doing? Shouldn't you be resting?"

"Um…" Jak shrank back a little at Damas' stern gaze. "Well…"

"We were bored!" Daxter snapped. Damas walked over to the pair and pulled up a chair. He looked around appraisingly: a dozen or so tongue depressors littering the floor, a bedpan set up as a target, two teenagers looking guilty. "We were just playing a game!"

"Hmm." Damas turned towards Jak. "Are you feeling better? You look better."

"Yeah. Thanks." Jak folded his arms. "So, what are you doing here?"

"Ionna called for backup," he replied. "I was free, so I came down to help." He glanced around uneasily. "Is…is she here?"  
Jak shook his head. "No, she already left."

Damas' face seemed to relax. "Ah. Of course you two wouldn't be doing this if she were around."

"Uh, yeah. Speaking of which," Daxter said nervously, "how about we keep this between the three of us? I don't want to end up mummified with bandages."

"Hmm." Damas reached over and took a tongue depressor. He turned it around in his fingers. "Who's winning?"

Jak grimaced petulantly. "Daxter is."

Damas took aim and flung the tongue depressor. It landed directly in the center of the bedpan, reverberating through the room. "Not for long," he said threateningly. "You'd best try a little harder, warrior, or you'll be in third place."

Jak grinned and picked up another one. "You're on."

* * *

Ionna was barred from the monk temple.

There was no shield that stopped her from entering, nor armed guards or threats. But having been outlawed from the monks, she was not allowed inside. Not that she had any reason to come to the monk temple anymore. No, that time of her life had passed. The ban had never bothered her before. It didn't bother her now.

The monks' seclusion period ended at sundown. The monks, eager for fresh air, trickled out from the entrance. As Ionna sat on a broken chunk of metal and waited, many of them greeted her, some with her old title. She smiled and nodded, waved hand signals and gave ancient Precursor greetings. But her eyes were always on the lookout for the one monk she needed right now.

Finally, she appeared.

Seem walked slowly into the sand, savoring every second of cool air on her skin after having been inside the temple for five days. When she spotted Ionna, her eyes widened.

"Ionna. What are you doing here?" Seem approached her cautiously, almost afraid. "You know you…are not allowed inside our walls."

"I stayed outside," Ionna replied. She stood up and, with a surprisingly firm grip, seized Seems' upper arm. "Get in the buggy, Seem. We have something to discuss."

* * *

 _In Haven City, the monks had a temple in the mountains, high above the city. It towered over the palace, as if to remind everyone that the Precursors were above any mere man._

 _The first lesson learned as a monk was to never—under any circumstances—interrupt another monk's mediation or prayer. Such a time was considered sacred, when the monks would look to the Precursors and self-reflect on their own state of being._

 _The monks would usually pray once per day, though some of the older ones prayed more often. They would retreat to their own quarters, or sometimes to the more secluded areas of the temple, so that they could be alone with their makers._

 _Ionna's favorite place to pray was on a cliff, overhanging the entrance to the temple. If she listened closely, she could hear the sounds of the agricultural district: the metal scraping of the farmers' tools, the sound of water sprinkling on the crops, indistinct shouts and orders. Peaceful and serene, but still connected to the world._

 _When a monk interrupted her prayer to take her to Onin, Ionna was immediately on edge. Prayer was untouchable to the monks; to break the meditation of another was considered highly disrespectful, so it must be important._

 _Onin sat in an empty hall, on a threadbare rug. The years had taken their toll on the monks' leader. Her eyesight was starting to fail, and she could no longer walk, even with her staff to help her. Her skin had started to wrinkle and cling to her bones, though she hardly seemed to notice her aging._

 _"My child. Sit." Onin gestured next to where she sat, her spindly legs crossed. "We have much to speak about."_

 _Ionna obeyed without question. She was the light eco acolyte, yes, and highly respected as a result. However, she was still young then, inexperienced and raw, like an unpolished gem. Onin was her elder, her mentor, her master._

 _Once she was settled, Onin reached out with her bird-bone hands and gently grasped Ionna's own fingers. "Ionna, it is time we talk about your future."_

 _Ionna felt a shiver up her spine. For some reason, the words struck a chord with her, reminding her that Onin could see further than anyone else._

 _However, Onin simply said, "I have always had visions of your life. Small, but important events that only you can set in motion. However, recently, these visions have become clearer…and more ominous."_

 _Ionna felt Onin's hands tighten. "Onin, what do you mean?"_

 _"Mar's heir will be dethroned." Onin said it with such finality that Ionna didn't even question it. "Haven City will descend into a storm, a fight which threatens to destroy it from the inside out. It will land on a precipice, hanging by a thread over an abyss."_

 _"What should we do?" the younger girl asked. "Should we warn Damas?"_

 _Onin sighed, touching one of her hands to her temple. "…It is a burden, to know what the future holds. No, we cannot warn him. He will have to face his trials alone, without our guidance. Unfortunately, that is how it must be."_

 _"However," Onin continued, "I have seen the past, as well. The two will collide soon, and that will be our chance." She began to gesture with her arms, eco sparkling out of her fingers. "A hero will emerge, and that hero will save Haven City…and our world."_

 _"So, we have to help this hero?" Ionna looked down at her own unnaturally pale fingers. "What do I need to do?"_

 _"The hero will have powers unimaginable, powers only Mar foresaw. He will hold the key to balancing the good and evil of the world. It will be up to you and Seem to teach this young hero, so that he may use his powers to save our world from destruction."_

 _"Seem?" That surprised Ionna. She thought of her young charge, the girl who was barely twelve years old. She was still hesitant, unsure of herself, struggling to accept her place in the swirling darkness that surrounded her. "But Seem is a child. She has a long way to go before she can train anyone else."_

 _"It matters not," Onin said firmly. "In times of war, we must prioritize our energy. Ready or not, Seem must train the hero, not in the ways of eco, but in temperance."_

 _"…Onin…I'm not sure I understand." Temperance? Ionna shook her head. "What do you…?"_

 _"Shh, child, and listen," Onin said gently. "Trust me, you will understand when the time comes. The two of you are crucial to this mission."_

 _Ionna swallowed. "I understand, Onin."_

 _Onin inhaled. "Listen carefully. You must prepare for the storm that is coming. I will provide you with all the knowledge bestowed upon me by my predecessor. I will give you the scrolls and scriptures, I will give you the tales of our ancestors. Most importantly, I will give you the maps."_

 _"…Maps?" Ionna's brow furrowed. "Maps of what?"_

 _Onin gestured west, where the horizon was nothing but sand. "Of the world beyond Haven. You will have to take the monks and leave, to follow Mar's heir beyond the walls of his city. That…is the only way to save it."_

 _"What about you?" Ionna blurted out. "Why won't you lead us?"_

 _Onin gave her an enigmatic smile. "I am old, Ionna. I am frail. I will not survive such a journey. I can barely move about the temple."_

 _"But…" Ionna glanced around the temple. "Why me?"_

 _"The Precursors have chosen you as their hands," Onin said quietly. "Just as they chose me as their eyes. You must trust that they will guide you along the right path."_

 _Ionna was still confused, but she nodded. "Of course, Onin. That's what I've always done."_

 _"Good, my child." Onin let go of her hand and smiled. "Go back to your meditation."_

 _Ionna nodded and stood up, bowing as she started to leave. She hesitated, however, and turned back. "Onin? Can you tell me how long we have until this happens?"_

 _Onin frowned. "I can only tell you one thing, child."_

 _"What?"_

 _"Time is of the essence."_


	4. Chapter 4

**Nobody panic! I didn't give up on this! I'm actually writing some other scenes that I have planned. I'm having a great time.**

 **Happy reading!**

* * *

Ionna drove Seem through the desert, sand flying around the Dune Hopper and the wind whipping against their faces. There was a storm brewing, but neither of the women seemed bothered by this. They were silent for a while, until Seem asked, "Where are we going?"

Ionna didn't answer at first, her lips pursed. Finally, she replied, "Some place private. We're almost there."

She drove them to the old ruins of a temple, parking beside a stone wall. It was weathered from the sandstorms, faded and worn, save for one part. The Seal of Mar, carved into the stone entrance, stood as clear as day above them.

Ionna cut the engine, leaving the two of them in a strange, echoing silence. "...I'll cut straight to the point. Surely, you remember Onin's premonition before we left Haven?"

Seem nodded curtly. "A hero of dark and light," she said quietly. "You must have met Jak."

Ionna gave her a hard look. "You knew about his abilities. Why didn't you tell me?"

Seem looked away, not able to make eye contact. Ionna had always been there for her, a guiding light when the darkness threatened to drown her. It was Ionna who had told her, all those years ago in the forest temple, that shadow only existed where there was light. It was Ionna who had protected her, out here in the Wastelands, among monsters and men.

Seem at least owed her the truth.

"His mind and emotions are in chaos," Seem replied. "He cannot be the hero we need, regardless of what Onin thinks."

"That's exactly why you and I are here," Ionna said. "We can help him become a hero." She gestured up towards the sky. "You talk of the daystar that's approaching, bringing destruction to our doorstep. If we don't do something, the world will end. I think that Jak is the best chance we have of survival."

"Yes, he is incredibly powerful," Seem said in her hushed voice. "But his power is raw. Unpolished. Uncontrolled."

"That can be fixed." Ionna drummed her fingers on the wheel of the buggy, thinking. "Powers can be controlled."

"We cannot take that risk." Seem remembered how he had been in the arena. "His powers could destroy us. He is not fit to become the hero needed to protect our world."

"I disagree," Ionna said simply. "He is still young, but temperance can be learned. If I recall correctly, isn't that _your_ duty?"

Seem huffed air out of her nose. "Hmph. I suppose it is. But…I don't know if I can truly help him."

"Seem." Ionna placed her hand on Seem's shoulder. "Please."

Seem hesitated. "There are others who can help us. We need to activate the planet's defense system, correct?"

"That's what the legends say."

"Then we only need someone who can control the Precursor artifacts." Seem looked down at her hands. "I have already spoken with someone. He is prepared to do what is necessary."

Ionna watched her for a moment. "…And you think this man is better than the hero Onin spoke of?" she asked. "You believe he doesn't have ulterior motives?"

Seem blinked. Of course Veger had ulterior motives, she thought. He wanted power and glory. But he was the best man for the job at the moment.

She didn't tell Ionna any of this, however. "Jak is not ready to become a hero," she argued. "I have seen him lose control of himself. He has been tainted by the dark eco. It's corrupted him."

"I don't think it has," Ionna said gently. "I've said it before, Seem: you overestimate the power of dark eco. Corruption begins in the heart."

Seem didn't respond. Instead, she just asked, "Are you intending to train Jak in light eco?"

"I am. Will you help him to control his darkness?"

For a moment, Seem was quiet. "…Very well. Hero or not, I will do as you ask."

"Good." Ionna turned the key and started the buggy again. "I'll let him know. If there is anything you need—"

"I will not require anything," she said bluntly. "Please take me back to the Monk Temple."

Ionna started to drive. "Thank you, Seem," she told her passenger. "I know you disagree, but…I appreciate it all the same."

Seem didn't answer, but her face showed her doubt. Ionna turned away; Seem would eventually find the truth on her own.

* * *

Jak had always had good aim. Growing up, he used to spend his afternoons lazily playing catch with the crocadogs of Sandover and using his slingshot to irritate the farmer's yakows. Nowadays, he was a crack shot with his guns, taking out armed guards with the same ease that he had yakows years ago.

Maybe that was why he was so frustrated that Damas was kicking his ass.

The king was winning by at least ten points. He hadn't missed a single shot since they'd started. The boys were both impressed and infuriated by his skills.

 _Clang!_ "I believe that puts me at 25 points, warriors," Damas said with a smirk. "Still think you can catch me?"

"No." Jak shot and hit the center of the bedpan with a reverberating echo. "But that doesn't mean I won't try."

"Ha. A warrior's attitude." Damas folded his arms and watched as Daxter took aim. "Truly, you belong in the Wasteland, Jak."

Daxter missed and they watched with avid interest as Damas got another direct hit. Both of them gaped.

"You know," Daxter said, recovering quickly, "I bet you'd be pretty good on the turret. How come you don't have that trophy, huh?"

"Hmph." Damas gave them a wry grin. "The turret is based in firepower. You can shoot mindlessly and still destroy your target. I prefer more precise shots, as well a sniper should."

"Sniper?" Both boys stared at each other, wide-eyed. "You were a…?"

Damas gave them a surprised look. "Yes, I was a sniper during the metal head wars. Is that hard to believe?"

"…I guess not." Jak picked up a tongue depressor and set his aim. "You just seem like you'd be closer to the action."

"Heh. I would rather have been on the battlefield," Damas explained. "However, the general consensus was that, as the leader of Haven City, I was too valuable to be on the front lines."

"Wait…you were the leader of Haven City?" Jak's next shot missed by a mile, distracted by the revelation. "You were the one Praxis overthrew?"

Damas nodded as they both gaped at him. "I came to the throne during the Metal Head Wars. I was betrayed by Praxis and banished to the Wasteland. The rest of the story, you know."

Jak swallowed. "So…you fought in the War with Praxis?"

"Of course," Damas said bitterly. "He was one of my most valued military advisors. Which is why I trusted him so much."

Before either of them could reply, Damas glanced up at the windows. "It's getting late. I suppose I won, though you two put up quite the fight." Jak watched as the older man started to pick up all the tongue depressors. Daxter jumped off the bed, grumbling as he went to help. "I assume you'll be out of here soon?"

"Yeah, Ionna said tomorrow I can go." Daxter tossed Jak the bedpan and he tucked it away. "I can stop at the palace if you have a mission for me."

"Do so." Damas put the tongue depressors away and went for a broom. "I'll finish cleaning up here. You two should get some sleep. " He gave a faint smile. "You're becoming quite the warrior, Jak. I would like to keep you alive and healthy."

"Aw, c'mon!" Daxter groaned. "It's barely dark out!"

Jak opened his mouth to protest, too, but Damas held up a hand to silence him. "I will hear no arguments. Rest is the best way to heal your body."

Both boys glanced at each other. Normally, they would argue, but neither of them were foolish enough to start a fight with the king of Spargus. Especially considering the stern look he was giving the two of them. It was reminiscent of Samos from so long ago.

"Fine, fine," Jak said grumpily. He crossed his arms and fell back into the pillow. "Not like I have anything better to do anyway."

Damas laughed gruffly. "Yes, I saw that Ionna put you to work making first aid kits. Those are quite useful out here. Your work is much appreciated."

"Anytime," Daxter said. "Well, okay, not anytime. But anytime we're really bored."

"Shut up, Dax." Jak grinned as his friend curled up on his chest. He pulled the blanket over himself and laid his head down. The building was quiet, with only the sound of Damas' work, the brushing of the broom on the floor. Jak closed his eyes and let himself fall into a blissful sleep.

The voices came back to his dreams, calling for him, but this time they were different. Harsher, more guttural, deep voices, calling him _warrior._

* * *

Ionna was exhausted as she came back into the infirmary, her hair windswept from the desert. Jak and Daxter were both asleep, sprawled out on the bed and snoring loudly. She smiled at them and glanced around.

Everything seemed to be in order. Nothing broken, nothing missing. In fact, she mused, it almost seemed like the place was cleaner than she left it. She was fairly certain she hadn't washed those now-clean jars, nor had she folded and stacked the extra bed sheets. She shucked her sand-encrusted boots off and tossed them in the corner.

As she started to unwind her scarf from around her neck, she noticed a piece of paper on the counter. Swiping it off, she quickly scanned over it.

 _No patients. No issues._

She crumpled the note in one hand. She recognized that handwriting, as well as the brusque tone. When she'd called for a Wastelander to relieve her, the last person she'd expected was Damas himself, wondering down from his palace. He was probably bored. She threw the note into the wastebasket, then shook the sand out of her scarf.

Ionna went to the shelves that held the eco jars. If she was going to properly teach Jak, she was going to need a steadier supply of eco. There was the vent in the center of Spargus, she knew, but they would need someplace away from the city to practice. She frowned.

Maps. She needed to break out the maps Onin had given her. It had been years since she had even seen them; were they in the attic? She sighed heavily.

She'd get them tomorrow. Right now, the only thing she wanted to search for was her bed.

* * *

When Jak woke up in the morning, Ionna had set his medicine on the bedside table. He shook Daxter awake and quickly drank it down. When the cup was empty, he started putting his belongings together.

"C'mon, Dax," he grumbled as Daxter dozed off on the pillow. "We can leave today. You can sleep later."

"I wouldn't be in too much of a rush to vanish, child."

Jak glanced back to see Ionna, leaning against the wall, a mug of coffee in her hands.

"I thought you said I could leave once I took the rest of the medicine," Jak said crossly. "I wanna get out of here."

"Yes, but I wanted to speak with you before you go." She gestured to another mug of coffee, hot and ready. "Sit. Let's talk."

Jak eyed her suspiciously, but did as she asked. He pulled up a stool and took a drink of the coffee. It was strong and bitter, much like the teas that Samos used to drink. "What do you want to talk about?"

Ionna sat down next to him and drank her own coffee. "I said before," she began, "that you are a very talented eco channeler, particularly with light eco. I'd like to offer you…an opportunity."

"An opportunity?"

"To learn," she explained. "I can teach you how to control your light eco powers and use them to your full potential."

Jak blinked. "…Why?" he asked suspiciously. "Why are you offering?"

Ionna raised an eyebrow. "To be perfectly honest?" She gestured up. "Because danger is coming, and I think you're the key to staving it off."

Jak had to admit: he appreciated the honesty. "Yeah, I've been told." The echoes of _hero_ and _savior_ sounded in his head. His mood darkened. "But I'm nobody's weapon."

Daxter leapt onto Jak's shoulder, breaking the tension on his friend's face. "Everyone thinks Jak's a _big hero_ ," he teased. "But we all know he wouldn't last a minute without me. I'm the real power behind this duo."

"Even so," Ionna said with a smile. "I've also spoken with Seem. She has kindly offered to provide instruction on controlling dark eco."

"Seem?" As Daxter scrambled up to the counter, his fur disheveled from sleep, he yawned. "What does Face Paint know about dark eco? Besides that it's _eeevvviiilll!_ " He made a mocking face.

Ionna looked surprised. "I thought you knew. Seem is the acolyte of dark eco. She's studied it almost all her life."

"Really?" Jak thought back to all the warnings Seem had given him, the grief for using his darkness, the way she sneered at his powers. He had a hard time imagining her even handling dark eco, let alone channeling it and transforming like he could. "She certainly doesn't act like it."

"Oh, trust me," Ionna said softly. "Seem may not like it, but she's an expert in dark eco." When both Jak and Daxter gave her a confused and curious look, she sighed. "Eco sages are chosen at a young age. The monks used to search through the city, looking for children who showed talent with a particular eco. They would take them and raise them in the monk temple, above the forest. There, they would learn the ways of the monks, the precursors, and the eco they were adept in."

"And Seem didn't like that she was good with dark eco." Jak folded his arms. "I can understand that."

Because he had been through it. Because despite how useful Dark Jak is—the invisibility, the supernatural strength, the sheer durability of his own body—he hated it. Hated the loss of control, the rage, the bloodlust. If he had to choose between dark powers and no powers, well…powerlessness sounded pretty good.

"There is a stigma, even among the monks," Ionna continued. "Many devout monks believe that dark eco is the soul of everything humanity fears and loathes. There are even those who feel that a dark eco sage is a villain sent to destroy us from the inside out."

"And what do you think?" Daxter asked.

Ionna paused, thoughtful. "Hmm…I think monks tend to put a lot of stock in eco and precursors and forget that the most evil men on this planet are just as human as the rest of us."

They sat in silence for a moment, digesting what she had said. Finally, Ionna stood up from her chair and gestured for Jak to follow. "Regardless, Seem _can_ help you. Come."

She led them to the back of the room, then reached up and pulled a ladder down from the ceiling. She took them up into the attic, her footsteps making the wooden floor creak.

It was a dusty, dry room that was filled with old wooden crates. Ionna hauled one over for Jak to sit on, then started opening another one. As she dug through it, she began to explain.

"Most sages can only control their specific type of eco. However, light and dark eco work differently."

Jak watched as she pulled out several thick, worn books. "How?"

Ionna blew dust off of a grey-covered book. "Light eco is the culmination of all four types of eco. As such, in order to fully control it, you have to be able to control the other types: blue, red, yellow, and green."

"What about dark eco, then?" Daxter asked. "Ooh! You gotta be able to control _none_ of 'em!"

Both Jak and Ionna ignored him. "Dark eco requires a certain…mental fortitude in order to use it." Ionna opened the book and flipped through. "Aha. There aren't many accounts of dark eco sages, simply because they are few and far between. However, the last fully trained dark eco sage on record was driven insane by it." She handed the book to Jak, who skimmed the words on it. The story sounded vaguely familiar—mysterious disappearances, collections of dark eco pooled together, Precursor machinery used to flood the world with dark eco—

Oh.

He flipped the page and saw a crude mural, similar to those in the monk temple and Mar's tomb. This one showed two figures, shrouded in darkness, hovering above two figures of light.

"The story goes, when the dark eco sage tried to remake the world in darkness, the light eco sage stopped him. However, after that, there has never been another fully recognized sage—in light nor dark eco."

"Is this…accurate?" Jak asked hesitantly. He caught Daxter's eye, who shrugged. "I mean…it sounds kind of…fairy-tale-ish."

"Well, history is written by those who remain." She took the book back from him. "And it's a very, very old story. I, personally, think it was…exaggerated a bit. But the lesson remains the same."

She set the book aside. "Controlling, or even channeling, dark eco is incredibly dangerous. Exposure to dark eco can turn a person mad. That's why the monks are very, very wary of anyone with an affinity for dark eco. It has a very powerful influence."

Jak flexed his hands, imagining the claws that came out sometimes when he was angry. "Yeah. I know."

"Seem hasn't spent her time on practicing different techniques or channeling eco," Ionna continued. "She spends a large chunk of her time meditating, practicing the art of self-restraint and understanding how the eco affects her mind."

"And _that_ helps her with dark eco?" Daxter leaned forward on Jak's shoulder. "Sounds to me like somebody's afraid of the dark stuff, eh, Jak?"

Ionna pondered this. Finally, she said, "Sometimes, the thing we hate most is what we hate about ourselves. Seem has long since disliked her natural talent for dark eco. Perhaps you're right and it does scare her." She exhaled softly. "Of course, I don't often see Seem in a murderous bloodlust, so it sounds like she's doing something right."

Jak cracked a grim smile. "So, you think Seem can help me control my dark powers?"

Ionna shrugged. "That's the idea." She handed him another book. "And I can help you control your light."

He opened the book to a random page and saw sketches of a plain figure, with no face, going through various poses. Some looked familiar, almost like battle stances.

"That's the book of red eco," Ionna explained. "It was used by the monks to train the red eco sage and their acolytes."

Now he saw why it looked familiar: those _were_ battle stances. "Are there other books like this?"

She nodded. "For blue, yellow, and green. Those four books are the basis for the light eco techniques I've learned."

"…I have pretty good control over the light part," Jak told her. "It's the dark that I struggle with."

"Don't we all," she murmured. She sighed and continued, "As I said, it's not necessarily to gain _control_. You have a fairly good handle on the power light eco gives you, but there are no doubt a thousand doors you've left unopened. I can help you unlock them."

She folded her hands and smiled placidly at him. "You can, of course, say no. I won't take it personally."

Jak glanced at Daxter, who shrugged back. "What do you think, Dax?" he asked. "Worth it?"

"I dunno. Can't hurt, can it?"

Jak had to agree. Maybe he'd get something good out of all this. "Alright," he told Ionna. "Let's do it."

* * *

Ionna gave him directions to meet her the next day at dawn, at the entrance to Spargus, then told him he could leave. She warned him that if he felt any sort of nausea or dizziness, he should return to the infirmary.

"And you," she barked at Daxter, "make sure he doesn't overexert himself. You have my permission to twist his ear if he isn't resting enough."

Jak rolled his eyes, but Daxter gave her a salute. "You got it, Nurse!"

She sent them on their way, waving them out the door, into the desert morning. Jak shaded his eyes from the bright sun and started towards the palace.

"So," Daxter said conversationally. "Do you really believe in all this precursor crap about you being a hero?"

Jak's boots pushed into the coarse sand as he went through Spargus. Shifting his shoulders uncomfortably, he said, "I don't really know, Dax. I've…been having these dreams…but dreams are just dreams. What do you think?"

Daxter shrugged. "Well…you are pretty heroic. You saved the world from the Gol and Maia, then you saved Haven City. If I was a betting man, I'd put my money on you."

"I guess." They had reached the palace. Jak stepped onto the familiar elevator and it rumbled to life, taking him up. "But what if I don't want to be a hero?"

"Well," Daxter said slowly, "like she said, you have a choice. But…and hear me out on this…maybe you _are_ a hero, Jak. Maybe that's just who you are."

As they came into view of the throne room, Jak sighed and closed his eyes. "I guess we'll just have to find out."


	5. Chapter 5

**Here I am! Hello again!**

 **I replayed Jak 3 recently, and I felt like there were a lot of scenes missing. I really wished they'd talked more about how Jak decided to go back to Haven, when he explicitly said he didn't want to. I feel like that was a choice he struggled with.**

* * *

In the morning sun, the Spargus palace was bathed in beautiful golden light that sparkled on the streaming water. The torches weren't lit this morning; normally, Damas would light them as his first duty of the day.

This morning was different. Today, Damas was standing behind the throne, staring out the huge window that overlooked the desert. He fiddled with the flint his hand, absent-mindedly turning the stone in his fingers.

He was tired. His night had been plagued by dreams—nightmares, really—that kept him awake at night. He rubbed his temples and sighed.

Dreams of Mar. His toddler son, splashing his feet in the water, giggling as he played. Shaking the sand from his spiky blond hair after a short trip into the desert. Chasing the kangarats and crocadogs around the city in efforts to catch a pet.

But those dreams, such bittersweet memories, had devolved into night terrors. Mar had disappeared, and no matter how much Damas screamed for his son, there was nothing but swirling darkness.

He had almost been glad when the dawn came, despite the fact that his head hurt from lack of sleep.

The elevator rumbled to life behind Damas and he turned around. Quickly shoving all thoughts of his son aside, he went to one of the dead torches and struck the flint. It sparked and lit up, burning with a ferocity that reminded him to focus on the present.

By the time Jak and Daxter stepped off the elevator, Damas was lighting the last torch. He glanced over at the pair.

Jak looked troubled, or at least, distracted. More surprising than that, _Daxter_ was looking a little thoughtful, too. Damas smiled as he greeted them with a familiar Wastelander salute.

"Damas." Jak stepped towards him, while Daxter leapt off his shoulder into the pool. "Got any missions for me?"

Damas chuckled. "I see you tire of being cared for. Did Ionna give you any restrictions?"

Jak's jaw twitched. "Nope."

Daxter threw himself out of the water with a splash. "She said not to overexert yourself!" he called out. His tone was reminiscent of the child who used to tattle on Jak for poking wumpbee nests. "Don't listen to him, Your Highness of the Barren Wasteland. He's supposed to take it easy."

Jak glared at him. "I'm fine," he snarled. "I can do whatever you need me to."

"Good, because I have something that I think only you can do." He folded his arms and raised an eyebrow. "Tell me, Jak , do you still have that handy board you were telling me about?"

Jak blinked as Daxter shook the water out of his fur and climbed back onto his shoulder. "My JetBoard? Yeah, I have it."

Damas smiled. "Excellent. Come with me."

Damas led them out into Spargus, where he gestured above them, at the buildings that towered above them.

The water pipes, he explained, wound their way up and around the walls of the stone buildings. Normally, minor repairs could be done with ladders and strong climbers, but there were always a few places that were hard to reach.

Until now, Damas told him. Jak, with his JetBoard, could surely find a way to reach some of the higher spots that needed repairing.

"They only need spot welded," he said to the delighted boys. "Just as a preventative measure. The last thing we need to worry about is losing water pressure. Do you think you can handle it?"

"You bet." Jak already had his JetBoard in his hand. "This is what I was born for."

Damas smiled as he and Daxter hopped onto the JetBoard. "Then get to it, warrior."

* * *

When the sun set over Spargus, it really was a pretty sight. Much better than Haven City, both Jak and Daxter agreed. But not as pretty as in Sandover.

It had taken all day, but Jak had grinded his way around the city of Spargus, balancing and leaping on pipes before stopping to fix the worn spots. Daxter had been the real worker, squeezing into small holes and gaps between buildings.

They had stopped at the very top of the arena, sitting on the roof above Spargus, looking out over the ocean. Sitting there, eating their way through some dried fruit, Jak's communicator beeped again.

 _"Jak, it's Ashelin. I know you can hear me. Pick up, it's important."_

"This is the third time in an hour," Daxter observed. "She seems pretty desperate to get ahold of you."

"I guess." Jak tossed a raisin up and caught it in his mouth. Chewing, he mumbled, "I'm busy, though. She can wait."

"Ha!" Daxter snatched a peach slice up. "If you ask me, she can wait forever. If she needed you so bad, she shouldn't have banished you!"

"She let me back in," Jak said, though there was a bitterness coloring his voice. "She overrode the council after we came through the catacombs."

"Yeah, and that's even worse!" Daxter griped. "She could've done that months ago, when you first got thrown out here. Instead, she waits until you almost _die of dehydration—!_ "

"That's enough, Dax." Jak's voice was soft, but firm. "She did her best."

"Yeah, well, her best wasn't very good…" Daxter viciously bit into the peach. "Anyway, I think you should leave her hanging for a while. Let her twist in the wind for a bit."

Jak was silent, thinking. As much as the idea appealed to him—after all, Ashelin had thrown him out to die—he knew he'd eventually have to go back to Haven to help. As if to remind him, the communicator beeped again.

 _"Jak, listen. I…Haven really…we could really use your help. I don't know if you're hanging out in the desert with Damas, but…remember that Haven is still your home."_

At this, Daxter glared at the communicator. "Then why'd they throw us out?" he snapped.

Jak shushed him, but as he stowed the communicator away, he couldn't help agreeing. Staring back out at the desert sunset, he sighed and took another bite of fruit. "Pretty, isn't it?"

"Yeah," Daxter agreed, leaning back on his hands. "Nothing like this in Haven."

Jak ignored Ashelin's messages for the rest of the night; eventually, she gave up.

 _"Fine, Jak. I get it. You're not at my beck and call. Just…remember that Haven needs you. Your friends need you. I need you."_

Daxter rolled his eyes at that message, but Jak just shut the communicator off and went to sleep. He didn't want to worry about Haven City at the moment. He tried to focus on the sounds of Spargus: hollow wind and grains of sand slicing against the stone.

The weird dreams had decided to cool their jets, mercifully. He didn't dream of anything that night, curled up in one of the bunks in the arena. It was nothing but the peaceful bliss of unconsciousness until he woke up.

The boys met Ionna at the entrance of Spargus the next morning, just before dawn. The city was practically empty at this point, with only a few sleepy-eyed merchants setting up their tarps. The only sounds he could hear was the ocean crashing on the rocks and the wind gently blowing through the sand. When they reached the garage, Kleiver was nowhere to be found, but Ionna was waiting near the Dune Hopper.

"Are you ready?" When Jak replied affirmative, she nodded. "Good. We'll be there for a few hours, so fill your canteen before we leave. I've brought some food for us as well."

"Are we going to the Monk Temple?" Jak went to the spigot to do as she said.

Ionna shook her head. "Too far away, and not enough space to make mistakes. There are some caves off near the lake that have a light eco vent. We'll go there."

Ionna pulled herself into the driver's seat and motioned for Jak to climb into the passenger's side. He did so, making sure Daxter was secure on his shoulder. They both pulled their scarves over their mouths and set off into the desert.

* * *

The caves Ionna drove them too were just outside the Marauder compound. There were worn stone carvings around them: symbols for eco, the Seal of Mar, Precursor murals. Jak had seen them in his travels, but never stopped to look at them closely.

They got out of the Dune Hopper and Ionna led the two boys into the caves. It was dimly lit with the same kind of torch lights that were in the monk temple. There were a few jars of dried fruit and cisterns around, placed against the back wall to keep them from the sands outside. In the middle of the cave, there was also an open eco vent, letting out a plume of white gas.

Jak glanced around as he set his bag down. "What is this place?"

"The tunnels down that way used to lead to the monk temple," Ionna explained, gesturing. "Unfortunately, it collapsed a long time ago, but the cave still has an eco pipe running through it. Right now, it's just used as a rest stop for the Wastelanders."

Ionna was unstrapping her rifle, so Jak followed suit with the morph gun. Daxter hopped off Jak's shoulder and started stretching out on a rock.

"Now," Ionna said briskly, "replenish your supply of eco and let's begin."

Ionna walked through the eco vent, allowing the light eco to swirl into her body; Jak did the same, feeling the familiar warmth created by the eco.

"Very good. Now, channeling eco requires precision control over your body." Ionna bent down and started unlacing her boots. "Go on, get barefoot. It'll help with the channeling."

Jak hesitated. He'd learned very early into his stay in Spargus that running around in the desert sand led to blistered and sore feet.

"Ha!" Damas had laughed as Jak sat in the throne room, rubbing his red feet and grimacing. "Usually, this lesson is learned in childhood. Why did you even take your shoes off in the first place?"

Jak had just shrugged, too embarrassed to admit that he had just been curious about feeling the sand between his toes. And though he learned his lesson about the course, scorching sand, he still, every once in a while, had an urge to strip off his boots and feel it again.

"Jak. Shoes off."

Jak snapped back to reality. Ionna was watching him expectantly. Slowly, he reached down and unbuckled his boots. Daxter began to whistle a swanky tune in time to his movements and Jak glared at him. Ionna looked mildly amused.

He set the boots aside, next to Ionna's own tan ones. The stone ground was, surprisingly, cool to the touch, shaded from the sun. On Ionna's direction, Jak stood across and facing her.

"Take a deep breath." In tandem, they inhaled. "Good. Relax your muscles and close your eyes." Jak did as she said. She led him through a variety of exercises: touching his toes, stretching his arms above his head, twisting his neck around. Finally, she said, "Alright. Loose enough, I suppose."

"Loose enough for what?" Jak asked.

"Center yourself on the light eco, just as if you were channeling it. But instead of trying to control where it goes, just…let it flow."

Jak did as she said. He found the pool of eco inside himself and pulled it to the surface. The light shined around him. Instead of doing something with it, he instead just let it…exist inside him. He exhaled slowly before Ionna said, "Good. Let it go."

Light eco dissipated around him, leaving him with the familiar light-headedness that came on after he switched between his forms. Ionna nodded, satisfied.

"Your channeling abilities are astounding. Tell me, Jak, did you ever receive formal training from any of the monks?"

"No." He stretched his arms above his head. "Well, not really. The green sage, Samos, was the one who taught me how to channel, but I mostly learned the little things on my own." He shrugged. "Then, when I started channeling dark eco, one of those weird Precursor oracles showed me all the moves I know."

Ionna's eyes widened. "The Precursors spoke?" she asked harshly. Jak stiffened at her tone. "One of the idols actually spoke to you?"

"Well…yeah. They've always done it." Her jaw dropped and Jak shifted uncomfortably. "Ever since I was a kid. That's how I got my light powers." She was staring at him in a stunned silence, the first time he'd seen her speechless. "What's the matter?"

Ionna took a moment to compose herself. "The Precursor idols," she explained, "are said to only speak to the Precursor monks. There's only one person who wasn't a monk that the idols spoke to, ever."

"Really? Who?"

"Mar." Ionna folded her hands together. "The fact that the idols spoke to you only cements my theory. You _are_ the one who is destined to save us."

"No pressure," Daxter said, grinning. Jak frowned, annoyed.

"Look," he said, "I don't buy into all that crap. Maybe a long time ago, I might've believed it, but…" He shrugged. "I'm not a hero. Not anymore."

"…" Ionna watched him for a moment, then sighed. "Child. You seem to think that heroism is something one is born with, rather than something that is learned."

"Yeah? Well, the Precursors disagree with you there. I've been told I'm a great hero since…well, for a long time," he grumbled.

Ionna closed her eyes and sighed. "The Precursors can be wrong."

It was an odd statement, Jak thought. It rang hollow compared to everything he'd grown up hearing. Samos had extolled the powers of the great Precursors, while Damas and Sig behaved as if they were almighty gods. He'd never heard anyone speak to them with disrespect.

Well, with one exception.

"Ha! Ain't that the truth!" Daxter flipped off the rock he was on and padded over to Jak. "You know, I don't think the Precursors are all they're cracked up to be."

"They are what they are," Ionna said evenly. "Remember, above all else, the Precursors' greatest gift to mankind was free will. You _chose_ to behave like a hero, Jak, and you can _choose_ to ignore everything the Precursors say."

Jak shifted on his feet, uncomfortable. "Look, can we keep going? Not that this isn't really interesting, but…I don't really want to talk about being a hero or…whatever else."

Ionna nodded. "Of course, that's why we're here. Now, face the eco vent."

Jak did as he was told. Ionna reached out and spun her hand in a circle. The eco obeyed, swirling into a shining white vortex, then solidifying into a sparkling white crystal. She picked out of the air and handed it to Jak.

"Wow," he whispered, marveling at the crystal in his hand.

"That's a much more advanced technique," Ionna explained. "We'll get there, but you need to learn the basics first."

"Right." Jak nodded. "So, what first?"

Ionna reached out and spun her hand again. The eco swirled into a vortex, then Ionna absorbed it. "You try," she said. "Remember, let the eco flow. You must not force it."

Jak steadied his stance and exhaled. "Okay. Here goes." He reached his hand out and concentrated.

Meanwhile, Ionna watched and listened.

* * *

By the time an hour had passed, Jak was exhausted. Channeling eco, as it turned out, was a lot easier than controlling it. He sat down, wiping his forehead off.

Ionna sat beside him. "Good job," she complimented. "You're getting the hang of it."

"I don't feel like I did much at all," Jak complained. Indeed, in the hour that had gone by, he had only managed to get the eco to follow his commands once. Most of the time, the eco just zoomed right towards him automatically. It wasn't until the last try that he had managed to make the eco spin in a weak little tornado. "I usually don't have to work that hard."

"Don't be discouraged. It takes the acolytes many years to master the unique nature of eco." She smiled gently at him. "You're doing very well, Jak."  
"...Am I?" he asked. He took a drink from his canteen, then passed it to Daxter. "Everyone is saying that I'm some great hero and I'm supposed to do these awesome things. But…I can't even get the stupid eco to do what I want."

"You must have patience, child," she soothed. "It takes years for babies to learn to walk and talk; how can you be expected to learn this in just a day?" She shrugged. "Even if you decide to be a hero, you can't do the impossible."

"…You're really big on this whole 'deciding' to be a hero thing," Daxter said. He was pulling out all the dried cherries from the food they had brought. "How come?"

Ionna paused for a moment, thinking. "I suppose," she said slowly, "it's because I was never given the same opportunity. I've been marked as the light eco sage since I was a toddler. My destiny was chosen for me. It wasn't until _I_ made the choice, until _I_ decided not to become a sage, that I fully appreciated the power of autonomy." She gave Jak a meaningful look. "I understand how hard it is to forced into a role you never chose."

With that, Ionna stood up and started for the Dune Hopper. "It's nearly noon. We'd best get going."

* * *

As Jak went to bed that night, he hesitated. The communicator from Haven had been turned off since the previous night. He wasn't sure if he wanted to turn it back on.

"Dax?" The ottsel's ears perked up. He was lying on the pillow, eyes closed. "Do you think I should go back go Haven?"

"I dunno," Daxter groaned. "Geez, Jak, if the Precursors don't know, how should I?"

Jak sighed, then set the communicator aside, still off. As he curled up into bed, he sighed and tried not to think about his previous home, being torn apart by metal heads and rogue KG bots.

Choice were great and all, he thought as he drifted to sleep. But you had to be ready to face the consequences of those actions.


	6. Chapter 6

**I'm back! Happy New Year. May your 2020 be awesome.**

* * *

The weeks went by in a rush of indecision and eco.

Ashelin's calls tapered off, though she still would call in with a "Jak? Are you there?" every few days.

He hadn't made a decision yet on whether he should go back to Haven. Which, he supposed, was a decision in itself.

He asked Sig, during a mission in the Wasteland, how things were in Haven.

"I was back there a few days ago," Sig told him, revving the engine to get them over a sand dune. Daxter was near the gun in the back, not listening to the two in the front. "Had to check on something for Damas…it's not great, cherry, but you already knew that."

Jak sat back in the seat of the buggy, depressed. "Yeah, I guess I did."

"Metal heads have completely taken over the Agricultural district," Sig continued. "Ashelin is afraid a new nest is starting to form. Plus, they found out where all those damned KG robots are from."

"Oh?" Jak felt them take a hard right turn and knew they were avoiding marauders. "Where?"

"The old War Factory," Sig confirmed. "Apparently, someone has been accessing it and making more robots, but no one is sure who it is. Torn wants to send someone up to check it out, but no one is fool enough to do it."

 _Except Jak._ The unspoken words hung in the air, and Jak exhaled. "…Do you think I should go back to help?" he asked quietly.

Sig's mouth thinned. "No."

"…Why not?" Jak pressed, annoyed that Sig didn't seem to want to elaborate.

Sig sighed. "Alright, chili pepper, listen to me. You know I have some strong…not very nice feelings about Haven. I only go back there when Damas needs me to."

"So that means we should just let them all die?" Jak countered.

"You asked my opinion, I'm givin' it!" Sig barked. "I think you have more value to the people of Spargus than to the people of Haven. Even if you have great friends back there, I think you better ask yourself if they hold _you_ in such high esteem."

Jak closed his eyes. "I guess," he mumbled. "But I can't…I can't just leave them on their own. They need me."

"They abandoned you," Sig said bluntly. "Look, Jak, you're a close friend, and I like you, so I'll say this once and only once."

"What?" Jak asked defensively.

"Stop trying to be the hero." Sig shook his head. "Why are you saving a bunch of weaklings who pinned the blame on you and ran you outta town?"

Jak fell quiet. Somehow, hearing Sig say his own thoughts out loud only seemed to make him _less_ decisive. He frowned and Sig glanced over at him.

"Ah, hell," he grumbled. "Look, you should only do what you want to do. I'm just tellin' you, they did you dirty. No one would blame you if you decided to let 'em all rot."

"…" They had reached Spargus, so Jak simply nodded and hopped out of the buggy. Before he headed into the city, Daxter on his shoulder, he added, "Thanks, Sig."

"Anytime, cherry." Sig clapped him on the shoulder. "Anytime."

* * *

In the meantime, between missions for Spargus, Jak was still learning light eco techniques from Ionna.

"You're making astounding progress," Ionna complimented. Her eyes followed Jak as he spun the light eco around his hands, the gaseous eco obeying his command easily. "You certainly have outstripped any monk or sage I've seen."

"Really?" Jak brought his hands up and the light eco wound between his individual fingers. "I guess I've always been a quick learner."

"Yeah, it only took him seventeen years to learn how to talk." Daxter snickered from the rock he was lounging on. "One of these days, he might even learn to read."

"Shut up, Dax." Jak absorbed the eco and sat down beside his friend, rubbing his temples. "Whoo. That takes it out of me." His head was pounding and his muscles ached. He didn't feel like he'd _ever_ get to the point that Ionna did, though: making the eco change form, making it split into clusters and pools, making it obey her with a wave of her hand.

"Exhaustion. Rest for a moment." Ionna handed him a canteen, which he gratefully took. She started to extinguish the torches. "It gets easier the more you do it. After all, muscles ache after excercising them, but the pain goes away as we grow stronger."

Jak rubbed his neck, trying to ease the tension. Despite the fact that it was physically draining, he found himself almost...exhilarated by the lessons on light eco. He was getting the hang of moving eco around and manipulating it, though he still wasn't able to make it change forms. "What else is left?"

"Hmm, we're done for today," Ionna replied. "I think we're almost ready to get into the actual _powers_ of light eco next. I don't want to rush your learning, only for you to not have learned at all."

Jak stretched his arms above his head. It was just after midday, but he was already tired. Maybe he'd catch a nap, or meet Sig at his favorite bar. Maybe he'd even just hanging out in the palace, resting in the water like he and Daxter often did. Damas invited them to rest between missions there, almost grateful for the company.

His communicator suddenly beeped, yanking him out of his thoughts. He winced as Ashelin's voice floated through.

 _Jak. Are you there, Jak? Listen...we really need your help. Please answer me. We-_

Jak clicked the communicator off abruptly. Ionna didn't even seem to notice as she continued putting out the torches. Daxter gave him a sideways look, but didn't say anything.

"...That was Ashelin Praxis, correct?"

Jak's head shot up. Ionna had finished her task and was staring at him blankly. "Yeah," he replied. "Yeah, that was her."

"How do you know Ashelin, huh?" Daxter scrambled up onto Jak's shoulder. "Old pals? Frenemies?"

Ionna gave him a small smile and sat down next to them. "I told you. I have quite a few contacts in Haven City. She's one of them."

"Really?" Something suddenly occurred to Jak. "Wait, did _you_ give her a beacon?"

"I did. Just in case she needed some help one day." Ionna crossed her legs and frowned. "How did you know?"

"Because she gave it to me," Jak replied. "That's how Damas found me in the desert."

"Ah. That explains quite a bit," Ionna said. "Then you owe Ashelin Praxis your life."

Jak blinked. "I...I guess you're right," he finally said.

"...What is on your mind, child?" Ionna asked kindly. "You seem preoccupied."

Jak exhaled. "Ashelin wants me to go back to Haven City, to help with the war. I don't know if I should."

Ionna watched his face carefully, but didn't speak. Daxter did, though.

"Ha! She just wants you to clean up her mess!"

Ionna leaned forward slightly. "Jak? Is that what you think, too?"

"..." Jak closed his eyes. "I don't know," he said finally.

Because he knew that Ashelin was his friend. He remembered fighting beside her against Metal Heads, teasing her about her crush on Torn, listening to Daxter hit on her while she rolled her eyes. She _had_ saved his life by giving him that beacon.

But she hadn't defended him. That had hurt the most, he thought, more than being banished. Because the city already thought he was a monster. He didn't need his friends thinking he was one, too. His train of through broke when he felt a hand squeeze his shoulder.

"Not knowing is alright," Ionna reassured him. "But I would like you to consider something."

"What?" he asked. Ionna stood up and gestured outside, towards Spargus' beacon shining in the sky. "Spargus? What about it?"

"Not the city, but the people in it." She sat back down. "You, child, are about to learn a lesson that everyone in that city has learned the hard way. A lesson forged in sand and blood."

"What lesson?"

"...A lesson about loyalty." She smiled at Jak sadly. "You are a warrior, Jak, one who would never hesitate to leap into danger for those who have earned your loyalty. But I suspect that your loyalty is hard to earn. Am I right?"

"Yeah," Jak admitted. "I have a few...trust issues. Not exactly that kind of guy."

"But you are fiercely loyal to those you care for." She gestured to Daxter, whose ears perked up. "Which is why you are having such trouble deciding. Ashelin has earned your loyalty, but the city itself has not."

Jak stared, stunned. He had never been good with words; that was always Daxter's strong suit. But when she put it like that... "Yeah, that's right."

"So heed my words, child," she continued. "A lesson learned, from all of Spargus at some point in their lives."

Jak leaned forward eagerly, while Daxter's ears cocked to hear her better.

"Do not let your loyalty become slavery." Ionna glanced back out at Spargus. "So many of us were abandoned and betrayed because we put our trust in the wrong person and followed them even as we suffered. Yes, loyalty is an admirable trait. But blind devotion is a pitiable one."

Jak closed his eyes. Yes, he knew _exactly_ what she meant. "...Thanks," he said. "I appreciate it."

Ionna nodded as she gathered her things and headed for the buggy. "You're very welcome, Jak. My perspective and guidance is always available to those who need it."

Daxter leapt onto Jak's shoulder as he stood up and started walking toward the buggy. "When do you want to meet next?" he asked her. She gave him a glimmer of a smile.

"Oh, we're going to give you a chance to rest," she said evenly. "The next steps are...intensive. And besides, I get the feeling that you'll be a bit busy for the foreseeable future." She slid into the driver's seat while Jak hopped into the passenger's side. He cocked an eyebrow at her, but she didn't elaborate.

"...Yeah," he said finally, his eyes flickering to the communicator. "I guess I will be."

* * *

"Urgh, I forgot how much the city _reeks!_ "

As the air train pulled away, leaving Jak and Daxter behind at the port, Daxter gagged dramatically. "I mean, whoo! It smells worse than Krew did, and that sayin' something!"

Jak wrinkled his nose. The acrid smell of pollution and sewage was stronger than usual, he thought. Or maybe he was just so used to being in the desert that it hit him harder.

It was the second time Jak had been back to Haven City since his banishment. He'd been here before, when he and Daxter had gone through the subrails and knocked out Veger's robot. But it had been awkward, and he'd gone back to Spargus after only a few days of missions from Torn.

He hadn't even said goodbye to anyone.

Now, as he stepped into the Freedom Headquarters, both Torn and Ashelin gave audible sighs of relief.

"Jak, you came home." Ashelin gave him a weak smile that he didn't return.

"I'm just here to do what I need to do and get out," he replied flatly. Her smile vanished. "I heard you were looking for someone to go into the Baron's War Factory?"

Ashelin frowned at him. "I didn't call you back here just for that," she told him. "I wanted to...everyone has been asking about you. Keira and Samos didn't even know you had left until after you were gone."

"Well, they shoulda stopped by to say hi more, then!" Daxter snapped. "We knocked down that stupid barrier, but you never heard anyone stoppin' by to see us!"

Ashelin looked like she wanted to argue, but Torn cut her off. "Whatever. I don't have time to worry about this stupid shit." He folded his arms and gave Jak a solid look. "Jak, I'm glad you're back, for however long you are. We are up a creek without a paddle."

"What's going on?" Jak leaned towards the console in the center of the room. "Sig mentioned that you found out where the KG robots are coming from."

Torn grimaced. "Yeah, well… we're facing a two-pronged attack. Ashelin and I were trying to deal with Metal Heads that are making themselves nice and cozy in the agricultural district. But we noticed something strange."

"The KG robots are protecting the Metal Heads." Ashelin appeared to have put her own feelings aside for now. "I wasn't sure of it until I took Samos there to take a look. The robots practically swarmed us before we got to their nesting spots. We couldn't get more than ten feet in."

Torn brought up a map. "Samos thinks the Metal Heads are attracted to the Haven Forest and the Monk Temple. The Temple still has pipes of eco running through it, so it and the areas around it are rich in all types of eco."

"Of course," Jak breathed. "That's why the area worked for farming. Green eco makes the soil rich."

Ashelin nodded. "Well, the Metal Heads went straight for it. With that much eco around, they can form a new nest right here in the city!" She clenched her fist against the table. "We couldn't let that happen. So we decided to try and track down whoever was controlling the KG robots."

"Don't tell me," Daxter said, leaping onto the console. "It's our good old boy Veger."

"That's what we thought," Torn said, "but why? Why would he want to protect the Metal Heads?"

"'Cause he's crazy?" Daxter wiggled his paws erratically. "Crazy people do ca-razy things!"

"Veger or not," Torn said, shoving Daxter off the console with a thump, "we need to get to the bottom of it. Someone has to go up to the War Factory and shut it down."

"And that someone is us, right?" Daxter rolled his eyes from the floor. "We always gotta clean up their mess, Jak."

"We didn't just call you for that!" Ashelin said defensively. "I called you because...well, Haven City is your home. You don't belong in the desert."

Jak clenched his fist, staring down at his hands. His skin had tanned over the past months of the desert, making a stark contrast between him and Ashelin. "Don't I…?" he mumbled. Daxter flicked his head and he was jolted out of his thoughts. "Sorry. Distracted."

"Stupid is more like it!" Daxter leaned against his head and folded his arms. "Anyway, maybe we don't wanna go do this crap, Tattooed Wonder! Always dealing with _your_ nonsense! No one's even asked how we're doin' in the Wasteland!"

"Look, are you going to do it or nor?" Torn snapped. "Because if you're not, I have to head up there myself."

Daxter's fur bristled. "Yeah? How about you do that! Get off your ass and go—!"

"We'll do it," Jak interrupted. He settled his hand on Daxter's head and rubbed it comfortingly. "But then we're heading back. There's...something else I have to do in the Wasteland."

Ashelin pursed her lips, but Torn just gave him a grim frown. "Hey, I'll take whatever help I can get."

* * *

When they were alone, with Jak prepping the Hellcat, Daxter glanced up at him.

"You okay doin' this, buddy?" he asked quietly. Jak restrapped his morph gun. "I mean... we don't have to."

"...Look," Jak said finally, "I don't want anything bad to happen to Haven, even if I stay in Spargus."

"Alright." Daxter jumped into the passenger seat. "Then let's go, partner!"


	7. Chapter 7

" _Papa, Papa! Hide and seek, Papa!"_

" _Very well, little one, I will play. Why don't you hide, and I will seek?"_

" _Okay, Papa! I hide, you seek!"_

Damas jerked awake, his chest tight and aching. He couldn't breathe, all of those memories coming back to him at once. Gasping for air, he stumbled out of his cot and headed for the door.

A tight ball of pain in his chest, settled in the notch of his clavicle. He leaned against the stone wall, trying to catch his breath. He found his pulse and began to count the beats, seeking a touchstone to bring him back to the world he was in.

Count ten beats. Breathe. Count five beats. Breathe.

His pulse was slowing and his breathing returning to normal. Ionna's tricks had always worked for the nightmares. People needed something steady, she had always told him, something to rely on.

Once he was back to himself, Damas sighed and straightened. It was early morning, too early for a man to be awake without a reason. Even so, there was no chance of him getting back to sleep. His mind was already racing with dreams of Mar. His dearest son, playing the cruelest game of hide and seek with him.

Damas headed to the throne room, his chest still aching with a dull reminder of his loss. He stopped in the hallway, however, right outside a closed door emblazoned with Precursor writing. He gently brushed his hand over the engraved word before pushing the door open.

The room was almost pitch black, so Damas used a flint to light the torch on the wall. As the shadows flickered, his eyes scanned the room.

A child's cot, with the blankets folded at the foot of the bed and a fluffy pillow at the head. A shelf of books on the wall, with children's stories of heroes and adventures. Old favorites, Damas thought, running his finger over the spines. His son hadn't been able to read yet, but he'd loved listening to the stories over and over again.

There was a well-worn stuffed toy on the bed, stitched and patched in spots. Damas picked it up and sat on the edge of the bed. It was a crocadog, handmade with soft leather and fur. He could remember tiny arms, tight around the toy at night, cuddling it to soothe himself to sleep.

Damas set the stuffed animal back down and sighed heavily. Beneath his feet was a rug woven from strips of cotton, the bright colors of eco intertwined through it. It had been a gift from the monks when his son was born, blessed with the essence of the Precursors. Mar had loved to play on it, building blocks and drawing pictures.

Abset-mindedly, Damas' gaze shifted to the spot on the floor next to it. Stained into the stone floor, dark and faded, was a red stain. Blood.

Damas' blood, to be exact.

Damas abruptly stood up. He didn't want to be in the room anymore, didn't want to wallow in his self-pity and loss. The pain in his chest was gone now, so he quickly made his way back into the hallway. He shut the door behind him and headed for the throne room, leaving behind the calm darkness of his son's life.

He had a city to lead.

* * *

"Erol is behind it?"

Torn, Ashelin, and Samos all seemed shell-shocked at this revelation. Keira gave a little gasp and clapped her hands together. "Are you sure?"

Jak had just returned from the War Factory. Erol had certainly given him a run for his money; he could already tell that one of his ribs was broken, and he was pretty sure he'd done something to screw up his shoulder. He'd gone back into the Naughty Ottsel, where everyone was waiting.

"Yeah, I'm sure. I thought he was just working with the metal heads, but I guess he'd also taken over the KG bots." Jak winced as he sat down at the bar. Tess quickly poured him a drink and squeezed Daxter into a hug. "Well, not anymore. We shut it down. Erol got away, though."

"How on earth did he even survive that dark eco explosion?" Ashelin asked incredulously. "That amount of dark eco should have killed him."

"You'd be surprised," Jak said flatly.

This proclamation was met by silence, then Ashelin said, "Jak...I'm sorry, I didn't mean it that way."

"It's fine," he said curtly. "I'm just saying...Dax and I have both been through the dark eco grinder and come out the other side. The stuff isn't as dangerous as you've been led to believe."

"It's insanely dangerous," Samos argued. "Do not forget Gol and Maia, Jak! All their turmoil and evil deeds!"

"Uh, excuse me, green stuff!" Daxter snapped from Tess's arms. " _We_ understand dark eco! _We_ live it!"

"But dark eco can bring madness if not carefully tempered!" Samos rubbed his temples. "Look at what it has done to Erol. No doubt his exposure to the eco caused his insanity."

"No, he was like that before," Torn replied. "Either way, that means we need to figure out how to stop him."

"I suppose." Samos nodded solemnly. "I just hope that Erol isn't able to awaken that ship before it arrives at our planet."

"Then we need to get down into the catacombs." Jak spun around on his bar stool. "That's the key to stopping Erol."

Samos sighed. "Yes, but Onin says there are still artifacts to be found. Without those, the weapon in the planet's core won't work."

"What are these artifacts anyway?" Ashelin asked, a hand on her hip. "Maybe there are some in Haven, in the museums or the monk temple."

Privately, Jak wondered if she was trying to keep him here. To make him stay longer and grow attached again. As if he would never leave if he stayed now.

Well, that ship had sailed. With a place like Spargus around, Jak had less than no desire to stay for an extended period in Haven City. He took a drink, enjoying the burn of alcohol in his throat. "I know someone who might know where they are."

"You talkin' about Nurse Rached?" Daxter reluctantly removed himself from Tess' grip and hopped onto the bar. "She and Face Paint probably know where some of them are hidden."

"Exactly." Jak drained the last of his drink. "If anyone knows, they do."

"You're leaving again?" Keira asked. Jak hesitated, then nodded. "Jak…"

"Listen, Jak," Ashelin interjected. "I know you're mad. And...you should be. We didn't defend you like you always defend us."

"And we're sorry for that," Samos added. "You can't imagine the regret we feel."

"But we think you're letting your anger cloud your judgement." Ashelin fiddled with her gun holster, clearly uncomfortable with bringing it up. "We screwed up, yeah, but we're still your friends."

"Some friends!" Daxter hooted, but Jak shook his head to quiet him.

"You're right to be pissed off," Torn told him. "But if I were in your shoes, I'd hope I could put that shit aside for the good of the world."

Could he, though? Hadn't he already done that, _twice?_ He'd given up his life in Sandover, let the Baron stretch his sanity to the breaking point, let them all use him until there was nothing left. Could he really put his anger aside?

Daxter didn't speak, which Jak could tell was absolutely killing him. No doubt the ottsel had a thousand foul words for everyone in the room. But he was waiting for Jak to speak, waiting for the words in his head to form on his lips.

No one else was, apparently.

"You care about us, Jak, we know you do," Keira said quietly. "The Jak I know would never abandon his friends."

 _The Jak she knew?_ Did that Jak even exist anymore? Jak opened up his mouth to try to verbalize his thoughts, but closed it quickly, frustrated.

They wouldn't understand.

"So we're asking you," Ashelin pleaded. "Please. Stay in Haven."

Samos stepped forward as well. "We're counting on you, Jak. I know you'll do the right thing."

Jak clenched his fists at his sides. _The right thing?_ His anger bubbled below the surface, and he felt that familiar spark of darkness in his chest. He growled in his throat, feeling some of the darkness spark behind his eyes. Samos took a step back, eyes wide with panic.

"That's enough."

Jak felt his darkness recede with a hand on his shoulder. He turned around, surprised to see Tess, of all people. She'd stepped out from behind the bar and was standing beside him. There was a strange, cold fury that seemed to emanate from her, something he'd only felt when she'd threatened him before.

"I've stayed out of this so far," she said, her mouth pursing into a thin line. "But I just want to say something."

She folded her arms, giving them a glare. "You guys are putting a lot on our boys' shoulders. Standing there, piling guilt on them. You all should be embarrassed at how you're treating them."

Both Keira and Samos looked down at their shoes, clearly feeling Tess' scolding. Ashelin, however, said, "We're just trying to remind him of where he belongs."

"Oh, really?" Tess rolled her eyes dramatically. "Not to be rude, but I think he belongs wherever he wants. And I doubt he wants to be cornered in a bar and ganged up on."

Ashelin's face flushed red, but she didn't get a chance to retort. Daxter's silence had finally reached his limit. "Yeah, you tell 'em, babe! I'm fallin' in love all over again!"

"Look," Jak finally said. "It doesn't matter what I feel. Torn is right, I have to worry about whatever is trying to destroy the world. And that means I have to go back into the Wasteland and find out how to save it." He clenched his fists. "I just haven't decided what I'm going to do after that."

"Jak…" Keira's frown turned into a small smile. "You're right. I trust you, okay? Just...make sure you remember that we care about you."

"Right. Don't forget…" Ashelin looked away from him. "We're still here, Jak."

Tess grabbed her jacket off the bar. "C'mon, boys, if you hurry, you can catch the last transit out of here tonight."

Jak hesitated, his eyes scanning over them all. "...I'll be back," he said finally. "Don't worry about me. You know I always get myself out of trouble."

"And into it!" Daxter leapt onto Jak's shoulder as he stood up. "As always! C'mon, Jak, we got some stuff to dig up."

* * *

Spargus' council met once a month to discuss issues concerning the city. There were only eight, plus Damas, in the council. In recent years, it had only been six: Sig was away in Haven City, and anything Ionna had to say was communicated through Seem.

Except tonight, Sig was here. Ionna, as usual, was not.

Damas, sitting on his throne, cleared his throat. "As we are all present, I'd like to begin this meeting. Sig?"

"Sure. Circle up, cherries, we got a meeting to attend!"

The council was a fairly straightforward bunch; Damas had chosen them carefully. His eyes swept over each one as they assembled into a circle around the throne room.

Sig, of course, was the second-in-command and generally in charge of defending the city. Seem, the leader of the monks, a valuable advisor in any capacity. Kleiver, in charge of vehicles and Wasteland missions. Rider, the old man in charge of agriculture and whatever farming they managed in the desert. Jess, the tough matriarch who ran the armory. Malik, an expert on infrastructure and engineering. Jamera, a young woman tasked with caring for and educating Spargus' children.

There was also Ionna, still a member, though she hadn't attended a council meeting in years. She'd been in charge of the medical treatment in the city since its beginnings. Back when the first patient had been Damas himself.

"We all ready? Good." Sig nodded at Damas. "Wanna start us off?"

"Very well." Damas brusquely continued, not wanting to get side-tracked. He had a headache and his thoughts were still stuck on his nightmares of Mar. "Routine business first. Anything for the good of the order?"

"I'd like to request another building to be used for the school." Jamera might be young, but she wasn't afraid to voice her needs. "There's not enough space where we're at now."

"There's an empty building in the south end of the city," Jess suggested. "I store some parts for the turret in there, but I can move 'em."

"Hmm." Damas rubbed his chin. He remembered the dilapidated schools of Haven, even during his own reign. With a war going on, the city hadn't had the funds to fix leaky roofs and buy books. Spargus, at least, could spare an empty space. "I don't see any issue with it. Seconded."

"Thirded," Jess said.

"Three out of nine," Sig stated. "The motion passes then. Jamera, get your stuff packed and we'll find some folks to help you move."

"Other business?" Damas questioned.

"Is it possible to upgrade the communications system?" Sig asked. "I've been gettin' some static when I go too far out into the wastes."

"'tch, I'll second that one." Kleiver folded his massive arms and nodded. "We've lost a few fellows out there because their beacons weren't workin' right."

"Thirded," Rider rasped out. "Don't want to lose any o' my gents out there."

"The motion passes." Damas rubbed his temples, the headache still lingering. "Anything else?"

"Yes." Seem stepped forward. "I have been observing the Day Star. I'm now aware of who is controlling it, and what their goal is."

"Let me guess," Sig said wryly. "We're not gonna like it."

Seem shook her head. "He wishes to destroy the planet, just as I thought."

"What sort of attack would we face?" Damas asked. "I'd like to be prepared."

"I do not know yet. However, there is evidence that the Precursors have a defense system for our planet. Supposedly, the way in is to go through the catacombs in Haven City." Seem furrowed her brow. "Ionna and I are working together to find this weapon. I only pray it isn't too late."

Damas was quiet as he thought. Finally, he said, "While concerning, I trust you two to work together. If you need anything—more warriors, vehicles, weapons—let me know. In the meantime...I'm going to suspend the arena battles."

That proclamation got them whispering. It was Sig who loudly said, "What?!"

"The arena has been used to determine the usefulness of warriors. However, I feel that we will need all the help we can get. Should anyone approach Spargus and wish to join our ranks, allow them to do so. Now is not the time to turn away assistance."

Malik nodded. "A wise decision. Seconded."

A formality, really. Damas was the king, and his word was law. No one needed to second his motion, as it wasn't a motion at all. Simply a statement of what would be. However, he was pleased when he heard  
Jess say, "Thirded. We need to save the ammo, anyway."

"Motion passes. We'll suspend the arena battles until this is all sorted, let the folks who want in fight for us." Sig folded his arms. "Anything else?"

Silence reigned, so Damas nodded. "Meeting adjourned."

As the circle broke apart, he watched them all leave. He never really liked council meetings much, as necessary as they were. And today was compounded by the terrible morning he woke up to.

"Hey, Damas? You alright?"

Damas blinked and turned to Sig. "...Fine. Sleep is just...hard to come by these days."

Sig's eyes scanned over him, worried. "Anything I can do?"

"No, Sig," Damas assured him, clapping him on the back. "You're doing everything you can."

"I can get something from Ionna to help you sleep." Damas frowned at the suggestion and Sig gave a deep chuckle. "Right, I should have known. Well, if you change your mind, just let me know."

Damas watched Sig leave before tilting his head back and closing his eyes. He sighed and let himself fall into sleep, not even caring that he was still sitting on the throne.

* * *

 _The dreams started the day after Jak was found in the desert. They'd found him, along with his strange menagerie of talking animals, in the desert and brought them back to Spargus. The monks surrounded Jak, cooling his body with water and cleaning his dirt-crusted skin. One of them approached Damas, a thin knife in hand._

" _Your Highness. His hair is long and matted. It would be easier to cool him down if we cut it…"_

 _Damas nodded. "Do it."_

 _He glanced over their shoulders as they cut the boy's hair. He was in and out of consciousness, his eyes opening and then closing again. Damas gasped when the boy opened his eyes briefly._

 _For all the eco in the world, Damas was looking at Mar again._

 _Yellow-green hair, bright blue eyes, a round nose. He looked so much like his son that Damas almost reached out for him. He thought better of it, turning away to remind himself of the truth. He grabbed one of the monks._

" _Is he going to survive?" he asked._

 _She shrugged, callus as only a Wastelander could be. "He's not out of the woods yet. He's still severely dehydrated."_

" _...Call Ionna." The monk looked surprised. "Please. I'd like to take all measures we can to keep this one alive."_

 _The monk bowed her head. "Yes, Your Highness."_

 _Ionna came almost immediately; she always did. It was rare for Damas to call her to the palace. He only ever did it when it was a severe case._

 _As she walked through the pools of water, she gave Damas a nod. "Don't tell me. One of your warriors was injured in that absurd arena."_

 _His lips quirked up. "Not quite. A foundling."_

 _She sighed wearily and glanced down. He thought he saw her face twitch in recognition, but she didn't say anything. She simply sat down beside the boy and began to examine him. Finally, she said, "He'll be fine. His core temperature is going down. Keep giving him water in small doses so that he doesn't get sick."_

 _She said nothing else, but there was no need. If she said the boy would survive, Damas trusted her judgement. She moved past Damas and went down the elevator, probably wondering why he had called her just for a case of dehydration. Or, perhaps she knew why he'd called her._

 _He stared at the teenager's face, seeing even more similarities the longer he looked. A muscle in his face twitched just as Mar's had when he slept. The boy even had the same notch in the tips of his ears that Mar did. Finally, unable to look any longer, Damas turned away._

 _Perhaps he was just nostalgic. Surely other children looked like Mar._

 _Perhaps he was getting sick. Hallucinating, seeing things that weren't there._

 _Or perhaps, he mused as he sat on his throne, he was finally going insane with grief._

 _About time._

* * *

 **I love Tess. She's seriously my favorite of the three main ladies. Don't like Ashelin, obvs. Keira is okay, but considering she got downgraded in Jak 3 to "Error 404: Personality Not Found," I feel like she was wasted in that game.**

 **Samos sucks. That is all.**


	8. Chapter 8

**I have been feeling really motivated recently. I have most of the next two chapters already written out, and I am so excited.**

 **Also, I was listening to Cat Stevens' "Father And Son" while writing this. Which just...so many feelings. If you've never heard it, go listen to it. It's fantastic.**

* * *

It was drizzling when Tess led Jak and Daxter out into the streets. She tugged her coat around her and started walking, her shoes splashing in the puddles. Behind her, Jak sped up to reach her.

"Thanks," Jak said awkwardly. "For what you said back there."

"It's just annoying," she grumbled. "They shove all these problems onto you two the second you get back."

"I get it, though," Jak replied. "I mean...we are in the middle of a war. And I'm the Baron's weapon," he added bitterly.

Tess stopped in her tracks, causing Jak to practically run into her from behind. "You're not a weapon. You are you, Jak." She put her hands on her hips and gave him a bright smile. "A good friend. I just wish they treated you like one."

Jak felt himself smile back. "...Thanks, Tess."

"And, don't forget, you're also my sweet little Daxxie's sidekick!" She winked and rubbed said ottsel's head. "You protect my little precious when he has to go into danger."

"Aw, Tessie!" Daxter hopped over to Tess and nuzzled her neck. "You're such a sweetie!"

"Oh, I'll miss you, my hero!" Tess nuzzled him back and Jak made a face. "Going off to save the world again! We're too good for you here."

Much to Jak's relief, they'd reached the transport. The driver was reading a magazine with his feet on the dash. Tess released Daxter, who returned to Jak's shoulder.

"Now, listen, boys. Be safe out there. I don't want any harm to come to my sweet, handsome hero!" She batted her eyes at Daxter and then gave Jak a warm smile. "If you ever need anything, but don't feel like dealing with all of their crap, just send Sig with a message, okay?"

"Thanks, Tess." Jak hesitated. "Are you going to be okay with them? Won't they be mad?"

"Don't you worry about me," she assured him. "I can handle myself. I've already been dealing with their bitching for the past month or so."

Jak gave her a grin. "Well...I'll be back, I promise."

"And take care of him out there, okay?" She gave Daxter a wink. "We need to keep our boy safe."

"Don't I always?" Daxter's fur rustled as the door to the air train opened. Jak waved as the door closed and Tess watched them ride away. She tightened her jacket against the wind before turning back to go home.

* * *

The inside of the transport was empty, as usual. Jak settled in the seat and sighed, then gently slid his hands over his face.

"Uh-oh. Is this the part where you get all moody?" Daxter teased. Jak rolled his eyes. "Oh, no, it is!"

"I just...I thought my darkness was getting better." He didn't know a good way to explain it, but Daxter understood. "I thought with all these new dark powers and the light eco that...I could control it."

Daxter shrugged. "Seems like you control it pretty well to me."

"Daxter. I really...I felt like I was going to hit Samos. I didn't change, but it felt like I was going to." Jak took a deep breath. "Who knows what would've happened if Tess hadn't said anything."

"Eh, it'd have been fine." Daxter waved his paw breezily. "You've never hurt me when Dark and Ugly shows up."

"But you're different." That was all Jak said. That was all he needed to say.

"Well, maybe you should talk to Seem," Daxter suggested. "Wasn't she supposed to help you out?"

"...Yeah. Yeah, I'll do that." He wasn't exactly looking forward to hanging out with Seem, but if it helped him get ahold of his dark powers…

Seem it was.

* * *

Both Jak and Daxter fell asleep on the way to Spargus. It had been a tiring day; Jak still ached from his fight with Erol, and Daxter was always up for a nap.

Their nap quickly turned into a 7 hour sleep.

When Jak woke up, rubbing his eyes, he realized they were no longer moving. Glancing out the window, he saw a dim light that signaled sunrise.

"Dax! Wake up." He lifted his friend off his chest, where the ottsel had been curled up. "We're here."

He climbed out of the transport and knocked on the window of the driver's door. The driver lowered it and gave him a smile. "Feelin' better, warrior?"

The driver was one of the Wastelanders that Jak saw every once in a while, usually in the bar where he and Sig would relax. "How come you didn't wake us up?"

"Saw no reason. You were both knocked the hell out, and I wasn't goin' nowhere. Best to let you sleep it off." He tapped the wheel and gave Jak a salute with his fingers. "Good journey to ya."

"Yeah. Safe journey, too." Jak nodded as the driver rolled the window up. "C'mon, Dax, let's get inside. I think there's a storm coming."

"Yeah, yeah," Daxter mumbled sleepily, leaning against Jak's head and using his hair as a pillow. "There's always a storm comin'..."

Jak walked towards the gates of Spargus, his feet sinking into the sand. It felt familiar, comforting, almost...nostalgic. Like walking along Sentinel Beach. He pulled his scarf up against the harsh winds.

Going into Spargus, Jak marveled at how _quiet_ it was. He'd grown used to the busy bustle of the desert city: hearing merchants call out their wares, the occasional scuffle of Wastelander fights, leaper lizards hopping and rolling around as their masters prodded them.

But in this early hour, he didn't see a single soul out. His footsteps didn't echo, but they were unusually loud without the other people to muffle them. As he got closer to the turret, he could hear the sound of the ocean crashing against the rocky shore.

Jak glanced around, expecting to see a few seagulls flying by or perhaps even Kleiver, trying to beat Jak's score on the turret. No; there was no one around.

His eyes caught a shadow off to the side of the shore. _Almost_ no one.

Damas.

He was standing up on the rocks above the sea, watching the tide push and pull. Jak hesitated, then went to climb up after him. As he reached for the next level of rocks, he felt a pain run up his side and hissed.

Damas glanced behind him. "Ah. The prodigal son returns. I'm glad to see you're still among the living."

"So am I." Jak winced as he pulled himself onto the rocks. Damas, sharp-eyed as he was, noticed.

"You were injured." It was a statement, not a question, and Jak knew better than to deny it. Instead, he just lifted up his tunic to show Damas. There was a series of bruises all along the side of Jak's midriff. They'd begun to turn a blotchy purple-blue, almost like dark eco itself. Damas reached out a hand and pressed his palm against them. Jak grit his teeth in pain. "Hmm. It looks like you have a few broken ribs."

Jak rolled his shirt back down. "It could've been worse. At least it'll heal."

"True," Damas mused. "A warrior fights on, even when faced with pain."

Damas abruptly reached over and squeezed Jak's injured shoulder, hard. The teenager let out a yelp of pain, startling Daxter awake and making Damas smirk.

"But there are some injuries that need to be cared for, if you are to be of any use. Come." Damas leapt off the rocks with surprising grace and nodded towards the palace. "We'll get you bandaged up."

* * *

 _Damas likes having Jak around._

 _There's a part of him that rebels against it, a part of his mind that argues that Jak is not Mar, the boy is not his son, he cannot replace Mar._

 _But the more practical part of his mind tells him that it doesn't matter. Jak is not replacing Mar; he's just another warrior, a warrior that Damas happens to think could use a little guidance._

 _Especially after hearing that Jak didn't know his father. That struck Damas somewhere deep down inside him, a young boy left to fend for himself. A strong heart and a smart head, but rough around the edges._

 _How could Jak learn what was never shown? Integrity, loyalty, grit? All things a son learns from his father. Without that guidance, Jak was just a boy, lost in the tide._

 _There had been a time, not the first, when Jak and another Wastelander were brought to Damas. It happened often out here, where disputes were often settled with physical fights. But Damas couldn't have his warriors fighting each other._

 _Jak looked like he'd gotten the brunt of the beating; he had a nice goose egg on the back of his head and his knuckles were swollen. The other Wastelander, Eylin, had a few superficial scratches on his face, along with a prominent black eye. Damas was, quite frankly, glad he wasn't looking at bullet holes._

 _"What could you two have possibly been fighting about?" he demanded. Both Jak and Eylin looked chagrined. "Well?!"_

 _"...The boy stole some food," Eylin replied bitterly. "Had his stupid rat steal it for him."_

 _"Daxter found that fruit," Jak said hotly, while Daxter made a mocking face. "Look, I was willing to just pay for it. But then you started to insult me-!"_

 _"Yeah! You called him worthless!" Daxter started to make rude hand gestures, but Eylin slapped his furry hand away. "Hey!"_

 _"Don't touch him!" Jak snarled, but he could barely be heard over Daxter's shout of indignation._

 _"Enough!"_

 _Damas' voice echoed through the throne room. They stopped speaking immediately, though Daxter was still making faces. "I said enough," Damas snapped at him, which made him stop. "Now, Eylin, did Jak offer to pay for the food?"_

 _"...Yeah," Eylin said begrudgingly. "I woulda taken it, but then he got all huffy about it."_

 _"You calling him worthless?"_

 _Eylin nodded. "Yes, sir."_

 _Damas sighed and rubbed his temples. "You know better, Eylin. Youth is foolish, but age is responsible for tempering youth."_

 _"...Eh?"_

 _"Don't egg people on, Eylin," Damas said dryly. "You could have just taken the money and let it be." He sighed again and gestured to the elevator. "Go, then. I will speak with Jak."_

 _Eylin nodded, then left, still glaring at Jak and Daxter. Damas sat down in his throne and motioned for Jak to step closer. The boy did so._

 _"Youthful foolishness is a reason," Damas said, "not an excuse. Do you routinely go around starting fights because someone called you a bad name?"_

 _"I don't take other people's shit," Jak said curtly. "I'm not a doormat."_

 _"Nor is any Wastelander," the king reminded him. "I told you before, reckless actions can get you killed out here. Punching another warrior in the face because he called you a name is hardly productive."_

 _Jak clenched his fists at his side. "Easy for you to say," he mumbled. "Nobody called you worthless."_

 _Damas slammed his hands on the throne as he stood up. "Do you think no one ever has?" he asked. "Do you think I have never been called worthless, foolish, pathetic, and weak? Am I supposed to fight all of them?"_

 _Jak's head snapped up. "Who called you weak?"_

 _Damas shook his head. "We are not speaking of me. We are speaking of you, Jak, and the recklessness of your actions. Eylin was not in the right, but you threw the first punch. You chose to escalate the situation."_

 _"Look, can you just punish me and let me go?" Jak spat. "I don't need the lecture."_

 _"Clearly you do!" Damas stepped closer. "You are not foolish, Jak, so I do not understand why you are acting foolishly. Why do you allow your own hard-headedness to get the best of you?"_

 _Jak folded his arms and looked away. "Maybe that's just who I am," he replied bitterly. "Just some punk kid who's only good for fighting."_

 _"You know who and what you are, Jak." Damas folded his own arms, looking down at Jak imperiously. "If that's what you truly think of yourself, why should anyone see anything else? Why should Eylin treat you with respect, when you clearly have none for yourself?"_

 _Jak seemed to shrink in front of him, hunching his shoulders. "...I...I respect myself."_

 _"Then act like it. Choose your battles wisely. Show that you are worthy of being treated well, and others will treat you well." Damas nodded at the empty elevator. "If you act like you are worthless, then others will treat you like you are worthless. If you act like a warrior, others will treat you like one."_

 _Jak swallowed and his face twisted in some indescribable expression. "I'm sorry."_

 _Damas blinked. He hadn't expected Jak, usually so brusque and brash, to speak so quietly. As he watched, Jak put his face in his hands. Daxter patted the boy's back._

 _"I'm sorry. I know all that, I just...it hurts, you know?"_

 _Damas nodded sympathetically. "Yes, I know, all too well. But hurt does not give you the right to lash out at others, no matter how they may have hurt you. It will only hinder yourself."_

 _With that, Damas reached over and squeezed Jak's shoulder. "Look at me." Jak did so. "Now that you have learned your lesson, let me teach you another."_

 _"What?" Jak seemed apprehensive, but intrigued._

 _"...Mistakes, Jak, can always be learned from. And if you learn from them, you will grow." Damas nodded at the elevator again. "Now, go give Eylin an apology and pay for the fruit. And mean it," he added._

 _Jak nodded and turned away. "Um...thanks."_

 _Damas watched him go, his chest feeling tight. It took a few seconds after Jak and Daxter had left before he sighed heavily and went back to his throne._

* * *

"Take your shirt off and lean forward." Damas nodded approvingly as Jak did so, sitting down on a stone. The throne room was dim, but lit enough that you could see the water at your feet. "I'll be right back."

Jak glanced down at his reflection. Now that he could see it clearly, that bruise _did_ look pretty bad. It looked like he'd been peppered with hits all along his side. It was probably from when Erol had kicked him, he thought to himself. Daxter glanced over at him.

"Geez! And I thought you couldn't get any uglier." He dove into the water and relaxed. "How come you don't heal yourself?"

Jak shrugged, then immediately regretted it. "Ah! That hurt." He saw Daxter raise an eyebrow. "Shoulder. Anyway, I didn't get the chance to get any light eco. I should probably grab some after this."

Daxter began to backstroke across the pool. Behind them, Damas reappeared, a roll of bandages in his hand. He settled down behind Jak and unwound the roll. "Hold still. I'll tape your ribs."

"Okay." Jak braced himself. Damas began to wrap the bandages around his torso.

"Where'd you learn to play doctor?" Daxter asked, spinning around so that he was watching the two of them.

Damas huffed air out of his nose. He was working quickly, wrapping the bandages sloppily, but it did the job. "Ask any warrior and they'll be able to tape a few cracked ribs. War makes you a quick learner." He cut the bandages and tucked it tightly. "There we are. Now onto the shoulder."

As Damas began to assemble some kind of a sling with the bandages, Jak exhaled softly. "At least you're quick about it," he commented. "Most of the medics I know take forever."

Damas gave a short bark of laughter. "A word of wartime advice, Jak?" He settled the sling snugly over Jak's neck. "A terrifying warrior can kill you with one strike. A terrifying medic can kill without one at all." He gently guided Jak's arm into the sling. "Trust me, a medic can be your best friend on the battlefield or your worst enemy after. Better to do as they say and stay on their good side."

Jak thought of Ionna and Samos, the quick and precise way they went about their work, sharp and snappy. "I'll keep that in mind."

"Relax your arm a bit." Jak did as Damas ordered and smiled. "The ribs will hurt for a while, but the sling should take some of the strain off your shoulder."

"Got it." Jak shifted, trying to get comfortable in the makeshift sling.

"Good, then." Damas gathered the materials and stood up. "When the monks wake up, they can provide you with some green eco."

He helped Jak awkwardly stand up and put his shirt back on. "Thanks. Really, I appreciate it."

Jak turned to him and gave him a grateful smile. Damas felt his heart ache, those eyes and that grin mirror images of Mar's. "Get moving, warrior. You're put back together, now get out there and fight the good fight."

Jak grinned even wider and saluted Damas with his free arm. "On it."


	9. Chapter 9

**This chapter is kind of...transition-y, I guess? It has some important stuff in it, even if it won't become important for another 15 billion chapters.**

 **As always, enjoy reading!**

* * *

Mornings in Spargus were when Ionna got the most work done. With no warriors seeking her help with medicine or injuries, it was her time to take care of the housekeeping issues. Sweep the floor, clean the sheets, bottle eco and medication.

And sometimes, it was just her time to sit without anyone bothering her while she drank her coffee.

The bell tinkled above the door and Ionna sighed. She set her coffee down, ready to deal with whatever ridiculous ailment was affecting her visitor.

"I'm tellin' you, Jak, all we need to do is bottle it! Then we'll be filthy rich!"

"Dax, no one in Haven City is going to buy sand."

"We could call it 'Taste of Wasteland!'"

Ionna smiled as the two boys walked in. Her smile fell when she saw Jak's sling. "What happened?"

"Why would you call it taste? People don't eat sand." Jak rolled his eyes and turned to Ionna. "I got into a fight."

"And lost, evidently." Ionna patted the stool near her and stood up. "Who wrapped you up?"

"Damas." Ionna looked surprised as Jak sat down. "What?"

"Nothing. I would have assumed...well, never mind." She walked over and began to examine his shoulder. "So what happened, child? I had hoped it wasn't that bad in Haven City…"

"It's not," Jak began, but Daxter rolled over him.

"Well, it ain't a holiday!" Daxter gestured to his tail. "I'm lucky I've got all my parts! Metal heads, KG robots, Torn! I never thought I'd say this, but…thank the Precursors it's peaceful out here."

"Ha. I'd hardly call it peaceful," Ionna said with a grin, "But I suppose, compared to all-out war, it is pretty calm here. Now, tell me what happened."

She clasped her hands placidly and waited. Finally, Jak launched into the story of the War Factory. He kept out most of the details, but made sure to hit the main idea: Erol was working with the Dark Makers, and they were getting closer and closer.

"We need to get into the catacombs," Jak finished. "Which...is why I'm here."

He watched Ionna carefully. She seemed like she already had an idea of what he was about to ask.

"Do you or Seem or any of the other monks know if there are any artifacts from the Precursors around? Onin says there are other artifacts that we need. Stuff besides the eco crystals."

Ionna frowned thoughtfully. "Hmm...Seem and I have been researching the planetary weapon. Through our work in the Wasteland, we found two artifacts that can power the defense system. However…" Ionna sighed and reached across the counter. She showed him an ancient book, scrawled with complicated Precursor writing on it. "Do you see? The last artifact…"

"Um…" Jak shot Daxter a look. His friend shrugged in response. "What does it say?"

Ionna blinked, then chuckled. "Forgive me, child. I forgot you wouldn't know the ancient scripture." She pointed with her finger. "This book is a journal from one of Mar's most loyal advisors. They say that this was a monk who helped Mar to build Haven City." She ran her finger along a line. "Supposedly, Mar traveled to the planet's core and found the defense system. However, to keep such a weapon out of the wrong hands, he dismantled part of it."

"So that's the part we need?" Jak questioned. Ionna nodded.

"This advisor, the person who wrote the journal, claimed that Mar took something called an Eco Sphere. It's used to combine the powers of eco and synthesize it into energy." Ionna flipped a few pages. "Here, the advisor recounts how Mar hid powerful artifacts."

She cleared her throat and picked up the book. "' _A final resting place, hidden amongst the Trials that his sons and daughters would take on, was where Mar stowed his first secret."_

"Mar's tomb!" Jak straightened. "But the only thing in there is the Precursor Stone. I think."

"While it's possible that Mar decided to hide the Eco Sphere in his tomb," Ionna replied, "I think we should look at all other options first. There's another place he might have hidden it."

She continued in the journal. "' _His second treasure was hidden deep amongst the desert sand, where molten metal burns with fire. There, where we trained in the ways of eco, Mar placed the artifact, deep within, protected from evil."'_

"Somewhere in the Wasteland," Jak said immediately. "But...where?"

"Exactly the problem," she said. "The desert is vast, too vast for Mar to have hidden it just anywhere. We've searched Spargus, the caves and volcanos...everywhere we could."

"..." Jak tapped his chin. "The Monk Temple?" he suggested. "They talk about training with eco...maybe he trained the monks up there."

Ionna hummed thoughtfully. "Interesting...the monks have searched the Temple, but there are secrets still to be found, I'm sure. There have always been doors that lead even further into it."

"Do you want me to go up and look around?" Jak asked. "The sooner we find this artifact, the sooner we can get rid of the Dark Makers."

Ionna shook her head. "No, Seem and I will find it. There are certain places, deep within the temple, that can only be opened by the two of us together. They're sealed now, but we can open them."

"Really?" Jak shifted to let his arm rest a bit. "Daxter and I went all through the temple. We didn't see any doors we couldn't open."

"Oh, there are tons of hidden passages," she told him. "Seem and I spent the first few years during our time in the Wasteland traipsing through and opening up doors. Let me tell you, there are plenty of traps around there. Be glad you didn't stumble upon them." She closed the worn book and set it aside. "I distinctly recall there being a room that filled with dark eco when you stepped inside. That was...unpleasant."

Jak's eyes sparkled with childlike delight. "Wow...I can't believe there's still so much more to it."

Daxter groaned. "Oh, no, now he wants to go exploring! You had to get him started!"

Ionna gave a fond smile. "Ah, the joys of youth. Do you fancy yourself an explorer?"

"Yeah." Jak hesitated, then mumbled, "...The man who raised me was an explorer. I guess I always wanted to be like him."

Ionna blinked. "Your father was an explorer?"

"No. I never knew my father." Jak shrugged uncomfortably. "Forget I said anything. So you and Seem can get the last artifact?"

Ionna nodded. "We'll get into the Temple and see if the Eco Sphere is inside." She rubbed her face. "Unfortunately, I can't enter the Monk Temple without Seem escorting me, so we'll have to wait for her. In the meantime, how about we continue our light eco lessons? I think I have the perfect idea what to show you next."

"Really?" Jak perked up, then hesitated. "I guess I need to heal myself first, though."

"Oh, don't worry," Ionna said cheerfully. "That won't be a problem."

* * *

 _No one taught Ionna how to heal._

 _After all, she was the first light eco acolyte in generations; no one knew how many powers she would have. It wasn't until Seem, only a toddler, cut her hand while playing with an artifact, that anyone even knew Ionna_ could _heal._

 _She'd picked Seem up to comfort her, cradling her and softly humming. Suddenly, with a soft white glow, Seem's skin began to knit itself together. Her sniffles died down as the wound disappeared. It had fascinated and excited Ionna at first; several hours later, it only seemed to frustrate her. She sat with Onin on the worn rug and sighed, clenching her hands._

 _"I've been studying light eco for my entire life." She sighed and put her head in her hands. "And_ _I had no idea that I could heal things."_

" _Light eco is the manifestation of all eco," Onin encouraged. "It stands to reason that you would hold the powers of green eco."_

" _I just wish I could do it on command," Ionna said wistfully. "I tried to heal myself, but it just...won't come."_

" _Continue with your eco training," Onin replied. "Learn to control all eco, and your powers will flourish."_

" _..." Ionna nodded. "I just...I wish that there was someone to teach me. You're a wonderful mentor, and training with you has taught me so much. But…"_

" _But you wish to learn from a light eco sage." Onin sighed and clasped her hands together. "I understand your struggle, child. How I wish I could light your way."_

 _Ionna gave her a small smile. "I guess I'll just have to light my own way."_

* * *

"So," Ionna began, "let's hear it. What sort of light eco powers do you have?"

They had left the infirmary and started walking through Spargus. It was mid-morning now, so there were more people around. Young children running through the sand to school, merchants setting up their tents and stalls, Wastelanders getting ready to head out on their missions.

Jak used the fingers on his good hand to number each one. "Healing, flash freeze, and shield." Ionna blinked, confused. "What?"

"Flash freeze? What is that?"

"Huh? You should know." Jak glanced over at her. "You did it to me, the first day I met you. It's when you slow down time, you know?"

"Slow down...time?" Ionna's eyes widened in realization. "Interesting. I had never thought of it that way."

"That way? What'd you mean?" Daxter leaned forward from Jak's shoulder. "You did it!"

"Yes, but…" She chuckled fondly. "I suppose I took for granted my own studies in eco. The power we share isn't time slowing down. It's us _speeding up."_

"Speeding up?" Jak and Daxter shared a look. "Um...how is that…?"

"Light eco is the combination of all eco. It therefore holds the power of each and every other, save for dark eco," she explained. "Light eco can heal, just as green eco can. It can increase your speed and energy, to the point where everything around you appears slower. It makes you stronger and protects you. It can even improve your sight and accuracy."

"Really?" Jak looked at his hands, feeling the dull power of light inside of himself. "That does make sense, I guess."

He had never really thought about it before. The sages had flat out told him, what seemed like a lifetime ago. He had watched them make it, yet he never seemed to make the connection until just now.

"I had never considered it to be _slowing down,"_ she mused. "A different perspective, for certain."

"So, then when I heal, I'm using...green eco?"

"Exactly." Ionna smiled. "Now tell me how you use your healing power."

Jak described it: how he called on the light eco, channeled it, and let it flow through his body. Ionna listened intently and nodded.

"Then I think our next step," she said, "is to refine your healing powers. Tell me, have you ever tried healing another person?"

"Another person? No." Well, with one exception…

"You've healed me!" Daxter shouted indignantly. "Not like I needed it, though! See, there were fifteen, no, twenty nasty lookin' metal heads-!"

"Daxter, shut up." Jak flicked his friend's head. "I didn't do it intentionally. Like Daxter said, there was this one time... "

Jak paused. They'd reached the light eco vent in the middle of the city. He pulled some light eco into his body and let it settle in his chest. Ionna watched him for a moment, then folded her arms.

"Very well, then. While we head back...why don't you tell me about 'that one time'?"

* * *

" _I'll put in a good word with Damas for you!" The Wastelander jumped out of the buggy and started for the metal bunker. He hesitated, then turned back around. "You better get in here, too, kid! I don't think you'll make it back to the city!"_

" _I'll be fine!" Jak shouted back. The Wastelander stared at him for a moment, then pointed to the mountains in the east._

" _You see those? There's a bunch of old caves at the base there. If the storm gets bad enough you can't see Spargus' beacon, wait out the storm there. Might be a few nasties in there, but it's safer than this storm!"_

 _Jak nodded. "Thanks for the tip, but I'll be okay!"_

" _Safe journey!" The man saluted them and then ran for the bunker. Jak spun the car around and started back towards the city._

 _The sand was swirling and whipping past them, to the point that Jak could feel it sting against the skin on his face. He felt the buggy veer with a gust of wind and turned the wheel hard to get back on track._

" _Jaak!" Daxter shrunk back against the seat. "The storm's gettin' worse!"_

" _We'll be alright!" he replied stubbornly. They were the only vehicle left out here, Jak noticed. No Marauders, no Wastelanders. "We'll be fine…"_

 _Daxter glared at his friend. "You moron, you're gonna get us killed!"_

 _He hated to admit it, but Daxter was right. The orange light that signaled Spargus was dimming through the sand. Jak spun the car and started for the east._

" _Fine, Dax, w_ _e'll head for the caves!"_

 _With sand skidding up from the wheels, Jak spun the car into the caves. The weird transition from howling winds to compete silence was jarring. For a few minutes, Jak and Daxter just sat there, panting from the adrenaline. Then, from the darkness behind them, there was a loud growl._

" _Shit." Jak grabbed his gun and began to shoot behind him. By the blasts of dark eco, he was hitting the metal heads, but he could hear more coming. He jumped out of the buggy and switched guns. As the blaster shots reflected off the walls, he could see bright eyes and skull gems._

 _Jak kept shooting, hoping that he hit all of them. No such luck; a large metal head dove for him and bowled him over. He shot it, but not until Daxter had been flung across the cave by the metal heads claws, letting out a loud shriek. He smacked against the wall and was abruptly silent._

 _Jak ran for Daxter, who was curled in on himself. As he picked the ottsel up, he felt the pull of light eco, without his input. He gasped as a light engulfed Daxter._

" _Daxter!" Jak's eyes widened in panic. "Dax, are you okay?"_

" _No! I'm probably dying!" Daxter clutched his arm, which was bent at a strange angle. "Oh, Precursors, Jak, just shoot me! Put me outta my misery!"_

" _You're fine!" Jak shouted. "Dax, look!"_

 _Indeed, Jak was right: as they watched, Daxter's arm was straightening and settling back into place. They watched in wonder before Daxter moved it and said "Huh. That's weird."_

 _Jak stared at his hands as Daxter went back onto his shoulder. "Yeah. Weird."_

* * *

As she opened the door to the infirmary, Ionna laughed hysterically. "Of all the things you could think of, you chose weird?"

Jak's face flushed. "Well, it was!"

She was still laughing as he entered. "It's just such a...teenage reaction." She shut the door and gestured to the bed. "Alright, then, sit here. I'm going to have you heal your injuries."

"I've done that before," Jak reminded her. "I thought you were teaching me how to improve."

"I said refine," she replied. "Which is exactly what we're going to do. But first, I have to see what I'm working with."

She rolled up her sleeves and removed her boots while Jak sat down on the edge of the bed. Daxter sat on the edge of the bedside table. "Take off your shirt and sling," she commanded. "I'm going to take a look. Damas may have patched you up, but he's a far cry from a seasoned medic."

Jak did as she told and then laid back on the pillows. It was oddly cool in the building; he wondered if that was intentional. Before he could voice the question, though, Ionna was cutting off the bandages that Damas had wrapped him in.

"Yikes," she said conversationally. "That must have been some fight."

She started poking at his bruise. He winced. "That hurts," he complained.

"Of course it does." Ionna pressed her palm, hard, against his ribs. "Hmm...you cracked three ribs. No internal lacerations, which is good. Plus the bruise, of course."

She wiped her hands on a rag. Jak glanced down at his own torso and frowned. "Okay, can I heal now?"

"Go on," she urged. "Heal yourself."

Jak did as he was told. He transitioned to Light Jak _(everything seemed softer, less drastic when the light fell over him…)_ and pulled on his healing power. Like taking a drink, he felt the familiar eco flow through him, easing the pain in his wounds. He set out a sigh and let the light eco fade away.

"Very good," she said with a slight smile. "How are you feeling?"

Jak took a deep breath: no pain in his side. He moved his arm and felt a twinge in his shoulder, but nothing like before. "Better."

"Sit up." He did so, pulling his shirt back on. "Your healing powers work very similarly to mine, which makes our next steps easier. We're going to work on basic education."

Ionna rolled up her sleeves while Jak stood up. "What do you mean, education?" he asked.

"She means you're dumb," Daxter said helpfully.

"No, I mean you've never been formally trained in green eco." Ionna rubbed her forearm for Jak to see. "The easiest and quickest injuries to heal are superficial ones. Cuts, bruises, scratches and the like. They require little eco and even less thought to heal."

She slipped one of the knives from her belt and, before Jak or Daxter could speak, sliced it across her forearm. Blood oozed out of the wound as she held her arm out for him.

"Go on. Heal it."

"W-what?" Jak stared at her arm, slightly repulsed.

"You heard me. You've healed yourself, now apply the same principle to me." She nodded encouragingly. "You just have to guide the eco into my body instead of your own."

"Okay." Jak did as she asked, pulling the light eco forward. He quickly grasped her arm before it could rush over him, letting the eco heal her. Several seconds later, and he let the eco vanish. "Did it work?"

Ionna examined her arm. "Take a look."

She pointed to a faint scar on her skin. Jak smirked. "No blood. I guess that's good."

"Yeah, but you didn't finish the job," Daxter replied. "Now she's marked forever, Jak, you jerk."

"You stopped me from bleeding to death. A fair trade, I'd say." Ionna smiled. "Good job, but that was also the easiest injury we've got. Let's take a step up."'

She reached into a drawer under the counter and pulled out a small, dried bone. It looked to Jak like it belonged to an animal, like a kangarat. As he watched, Ionna held it up.

"Bones are the next hardest to heal. They take more time and are internal, so they can't be seen. But there is an entirely different problem that presents itself."

"Which is...?" Jak prompted.

With a sharp _snap!_ , Ionna broke the bone in half. It was jagged and sharp, but the break was clean. "Clean breaks are easy, but compound fractures are more difficult." To accent this, she slammed one of the pieces of bone against the counter. It splintered into several parts, shattering onto the counter. "And you have no way of knowing, since it's not your body you're healing, which type you are dealing with."

She swept the pieces into her hand and threw them into the compost. "Now, then," she said briskly. "I need you to do something for me. You will probably find it...disagreeable, but it must be done. Do I have your word that you will do as I ask?"

"Sure." Jak agreed. "What'd you need me to do?"

Ionna slowly extended her hand, as if she were going to shake his hand. "I need you to break my fingers."


	10. Chapter 10

For a minute, Jak really, honestly thought that Ionna had gone insane. He blinked at her and swallowed. "Could you...repeat that?"

"You need to practice on someone," Ionna explained, her hand still outstretched. "It's either me now, or you'll have to wait until someone comes in with a suitable injury to heal."

Jak stared at Ionna's slim fingers for a few minutes. "Um…"

"Go on," Ionna urged. "You're strong enough to break a few measly bones. Break my fingers. Simultaneously, if you would," she added. "No need to make it take longer than it needs to be."

Jak blinked, still astonished, while Daxter leapt up and started to shout.

"AAAAAHHH! These freakin' Wastelanders! They're cracked in the head, damn it! Jak, we need to get outta here before they start breakin' _our_ bones!"

"I don't want to hurt you," Jak told her darkly. "I'm stronger than I look."

Ionna laughed. "Trust me, so am I. I am, above all, a Wastelander."

Jak hesitated, then grasped her hand. "Fine. Just...don't complain."

He clenched his fist around her fingers as hard as possible, then sharply bent them back towards her wrist. She gave a hiss of pain just as there was a series of loud _snaps!_ ; next thing Jak knew, Ionna had pulled her hand back. Her fingers were crooked and swollen now, but she didn't seem to even notice. Instead, she said, "Very good. Now, just as you did before, I want you to find the eco inside of you and pull it to the forefront of your mind."

Jak did as she told, concentrating on bringing the light eco up. He grabbed her hand and let it flow into her fingers, watching as the bones righted themselves. Ionna watched, interested, then flexed her fingers.

"Good job. Mostly." She wiggled her fingers to show him that two of them were still crooked. "It's difficult to know when another's body is fully healed."

She closed her eyes and let a sparkle of light eco flow over her fingers. They cracked back into place as the light dissipated. She flexed them again, completely straight now. Jak marveled in their perfection, while Daxter whistled.

"Man, how come you get all the fun powers?" he complained. "You two get to heal, I get to be pantsless and fuzzy!"

Jak and Ionna both ignored him. "The hardest injuries to heal," she continued calmly, "are internal lacerations and trauma. In fact, I highly advise against healing internal injuries. Organ systems and tissue are too complex for a person to blindly heal."

"What about bullet wounds?" Jak asked. Ionna gave him an almost proud smile.

"Very good thinking," she complimented. "As a Wastelander, you're most likely to deal with weapons, such as bullet wounds. The key here is to remember basic first aid." She gestured to the morph gun. "Never attempt to remove a bullet from someone's body. To do so risks both infection and hemorrhaging."

Jak vaguely remembered the same thing being told to him before. He frowned as he tried to remember it…

 _"Hold still, Torn, I'll heal you." The Shadow quickly brought green eco to Torn's shoulder, the wound healing over. Jak and Daxter watched with sympathy as Torn winced._

 _"The bullet's still in my arm!" Torn argued. The Shadow clicked his tongue._

 _"Never take a bullet out," he said firmly. "It could get infected or you could bleed to death. It's better to just leave it in."_

Ionna tore him back to the present. "I've seen many a man die because they tried to dig metal out of their arms. Don't do it."

Jak nodded. "Got it."

Ionna nodded, satisfied. "Well, since I am not about to let you shoot me, I suppose we should end our lesson here. It's almost time for the day to begin."

Jak stood up while Daxter jumped onto his shoulder. Ionna picked up a rag and pumped some water over it. Jak glanced at the door, then said, "One more thing."

"Certainly." Ionna began to wipe down the counter, but she kept her eyes on Jak and Daxter.

"...I had something...happen to me while in Haven." Jak hesitated, then continued anyway. "I got angry and lost control. Of the dark eco."

Ionna blinked at him. "...You wish to learn to control it."

"Yeah. I guess." He folded his arms. "Do you think that Seem could help me?"

"Come to the entrance of Spargus at sundown," Ionna said, tossing the rag into the laundry basket. "She'll help you."

* * *

Mornings in Spargus were always when Damas was most busy, oddly enough. He dished out orders and missions for his Wastelanders, set out announcements and plans, and just generally familiarized himself with the day's troubles.

Sometimes, though, he just wanted to roll himself back into bed and forget that he had a city to run.

This morning, after having _already_ patched up one of his warriors, Sig came to the throne room with a, quite frankly, unusually serious demeanor.

"Sig," Damas greeted wearily. He could see his friend's eyes narrow a bit and cut him off before he could say anything. "I am perfectly fine. I do not wish to speak about my health or any other nonsense. What are you here for?"

"..." Sig bit his tongue, which Damas knew had to be killing him. "I got some bad news. Some of our scouts found another one of those nasty satellites in the Wasteland. This one was still kicking."

Damas stilled. "Any casualties?" he demanded.

Sig shook his head. "Karisma got a nasty burn, and I'm pretty sure Helio isn't going to be walking around for a while, but...everyone's alive."

"And is it still operational?"

"Nope. Currently in pieces." Sig grinned at him. "Not that we'd expect any less from any Wastelanders!"

Damas didn't smile back, instead just sighing heavily. "I'll tell Seem. I'm sure that she and Ionna will want to gather some information on the satellite." He reached to the side of his throne, where he kept several rolled up maps. "Show me. Where was it in the Wasteland exactly?"

Sig indicated the point where the satellite had been. "Just past the river here."

Damas exhaled softly. "They're getting more frequent. I don't like this."

"What should we do?" Sig asked.

Damas' mind quickly spun through his options. "...We'll start by informing the citizens of the danger," he said finally. "I'd advise them to limit their movements in the wastes as much as possible. And they should certainly not go alone or unarmed."

Sig nodded. "What about the city itself?"

Damas frowned, thoughtful. "First things first," he said finally. "We'll start a rotation on the turret. It should always be manned by someone. And we should have a few scouts around the perimeter of the city, keeping an eye out for suspicious activity."

Sig nodded. "I'll start gettin' some folks together."

"Good." Damas nodded. "I'll send out a message to citizens. I don't want to cause panic, but we need to be prepared."

He stood up abruptly to take the communicator. As he did so, his vision spun and he stumbled a bit, dizzy and lightheaded. He swayed on his feet, trying to regain his balance.

"Damas!" Sig grabbed hold of his elbow, steadying the king. As the world righted itself again, Damas swallowed. "What the hell was that?!"

"N-nothing," Damas said quickly. "I'm fine."

"You are not fine," Sig spat as he pressed Damas into his seat. "You almost passed out!"

Damas shot the man a glare. "Don't exaggerate. I just need some water."

"Geez." Sig reached to his belt and pulled his canteen off. "What's going on with you?"

Sig pressed his canteen to Damas' lips, but the king sneered and grabbed it himself. He quickly took a sip. "I am fine. I am not a feeble old man. I am simply dehydrated."

"Damas." Sig met his eyes. "Don't you dare lie to me."

For a moment, Damas wanted to tell him off; after all, Sig had no right to butt into the king's business, and calling him a liar to boot! Not how a man should behave to his king.

However, the moment passed and Damas sighed heavily. He took another drink, letting the cold water clear his thoughts. Finally, he admitted, "I haven't slept very well these past several nights. It's starting to catch up to me."

"..." Sig frowned as Damas stood up, slower this time. "Why haven't you been gettin' sleep?" When the man didn't answer, Sig continued. "It's Mar, isn't it?"

"Ugh..." Damas put a hand on his chest, over his heart, absent-mindedly soothing a long-dulled ache. "I...every time I close my eyes, I hear him crying."

A heavy silence fell between them, before Damas walked towards the window that showed the desert. In the morning light, he could see for miles. Against the sand, he spotted two lone figures: a short, stocky young man and a small animal beside him.

Of course Jak would have been impatient. He hadn't waited long before finding someone to heal his wounds. As Damas watched, the boy seemed to glide along the sand, spinning along the dunes, as if he were surfing them.

How Mar would have loved Jak. His mind painted a picture of his carefree son racing through the city with Jak, pulling on Daxter's fur, laughing as the trio played in the water together. With how similar they looked, they could almost be brothers.

"Damas?" Sig's voice snapped Damas out of his thoughts. He turned to his subordinate. "Are you okay?"

He wanted to ask if Sig saw what Damas saw: if he saw the similarities between Jak and Mar. But he knew that if Sig had noticed, it would have come up already. Surely Damas was imagining it.

"I'm fine," he lied, turning back to the throne. "What were you saying?"

"I was sayin'," Sig said, in a tone that said he clearly didn't believe Damas, "that you need to go rest." He hesitated, then continued recklessly. "Maybe you oughta try sleeping in Mar's room. That always seemed to—. "

Damas' head snapped up. "I am _not_ sleeping in Mar's room," he hissed. Sig flinched. "That's where it all happened. Where I...no. All that will do is make it worse."

"...Then I'm gonna get something from Ionna to help you."

Damas' glare intensified. "I do not need you parading my problems around for all to see."

Sig glared right back. "I'll tell her it's for me. Even though I think you're being stubborn for the sake of it, I won't tell anyone. But you can't keep going like this, Damas. Something's gotta give."

Damas felt his anger drain away. "...I can't let my past affect my present," he said softly. "I am Spargus' leader, and I am needed in a time of crisis. I have—"

"A city to run," Sig interrupted curtly. "So I've heard."

* * *

As evening fell, Seem made her way down from the Monk Temple to Spargus. She'd received two messages that day: one from Damas about a new Dark Maker in the desert, and one from Ionna about training Jak.

She was worried. New Dark Makers meant they were getting closer. Troubling times, danger ahead.

However, it turned out to be nothing new. The satellite was similar to the ones they'd already seen. They were just scouts, sent to investigate and map out the land.

"Scouts?!" Damas slammed his palm on the arm of his throne. "What sort of scouts attack like that? It could've killed one of my men!"

"I warned you before," Seem said, a bit taken aback by his anger. "The Dark Makers are powerful enemies. They seek destruction, in all pursuits. I advise against fighting them."

"That ain't gonna happen," Sig said. "Us Wastelanders never turn down a chance to take out an enemy."

"Then people will die." Seem's tact had never been good. Ionna always told her she was too blunt, too brusque. "I hope you are prepared for that."

"...Gah!" Damas stood up and strode off into the corridor, muttered to himself. Seem eyed him with annoyance.

"You'll have to excuse Damas," Sig said conversationally. "He didn't get his afternoon nap." The large man sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "What do you think we should do?"

Seem blinked at him, thoughtful. Finally, she admitted, "I don't know. I have never faced any threat like this. I think the most we can do is...try to find what the Precursors left for us. And accept our fate, no matter what it is."

"...Great. Just great." Sig shrugged. "Well...I guess we'll just do what we can to survive, then."

She watched him leave after the king and straightened her armor. It was none of her concern, she thought, if Damas did not like the news. She was only the messenger.

* * *

"...I know it's a big favor," Ionna pleaded. "But I think it's our only chance."

From across the hood of the buggy, Seem folded her arms and frowned. It was one thing for Ionna to ask her to train Jak; it was another entirely to ask something like this.

"I cannot allow you into the monk temple," Seem said firmly. "The decrees of the monks state—"

"I know what the decrees state," Ionna interrupted. "But only the two of us can open the doors in the deepest part of the temple. You can escort me the entire way, surely that would be fine."

Seem sighed. "...You will have to disguise yourself," she finally said. "If any of the other monks see you, I would face my own punishment."

"Of course." Ionna agreed quickly. "If we can find this last artifact, we can power up the planetary defense system. This could turn the tide, Seem."

Seem looked down at her hands, tattooed with the markings of the Precursors. "I hope you're right," she said quietly. "I truly...hope we can protect our home."

For a moment, Ionna paused. Her eyes, always sharp and focused, lingered on Seem.

"...Why are you so pessimistic?" Ionna asked. "You almost seem resigned to the planet's destruction."

Seem avoided her gaze. "That is my curse," she said wistfully. "I am the one who looks into the darkness and sees what it brings. I see death and despair where others see hope."

"Only because that is what you choose to see," Ionna said gently. "I'd think that, given the circumstances, you'd be a little more positive about the outcome."

Seem was quiet, watching dust blow by at her feet, swirling over her shoes. Ionna ducked her head to make eye contact.

"Seem, my friend. What aren't you telling me?"

* * *

 _Seem despised Veger._

 _His smugness, his callous disregard for human life, his undeserving superiority complex...everything about him made bile rise to her throat._

 _But she had no choice._

 _The visions came to all the sages, the gift of knowledge brought to them by their own eco. Up until recently, the visions Seem had were fleeting: flashes of the future here, veering into another's consciousness there. But nothing so clear as the ones where she gave Veger help._

 _It was jarring, especially considering she hadn't even known who Veger was at the time._

 _Then he'd appeared in the Temple, having come through the subrails. He demanded to speak to the leader of the monks. At first, they all ignored him, rebuffing him and ignoring when he threatened them with his gun._

 _They were monks, yes, but they had been through war and death. No one feared Veger and his threats._

 _However, when Seem saw him, recognized him from the visions she'd seen, she agreed to help him. She told him how to navigate the catacombs, where the weapon was, what was needed to power it. She offered him her guidance and resources._

 _She might hate Veger with every fiber of her being, but it didn't change what she had to do._

 _It was a test of faith, she knew, from the Precursors. And she had a duty to pass it._

 _But she feared she had failed. The visions, ones that had been so clear with Veger, had changed. She kept seeing the Dark Makers in Spargus, the people fighting those monsters she knew were coming. She heard screams and saw destruction wrought. And then…_

 _Nothing. A flash of white, and nothing._

 _Her visions had ended with there being nothing but a peaceful light._

 _She was foreseeing the end of the world._

* * *

Spargus was a different world at night; with the torches lit and the temperature cooling, it seemed more and more like the nights that Jak and Daxter enjoyed back on the shores of Sentinel Beach.

The two boys headed for the entrance, where both Seem and Ionna were waiting. As Jak got closer, he heard the two of them talking. He shot Daxter a look, then slowed his steps and listened closely.

"...didn't you tell me?" Ionna sounded almost...shaken. Alarmed. "I could have offered you my guidance."

"I didn't need your guidance," Seem replied, sounding uncomfortable. "I understood what was being shown. I knew what I needed to do."

Ionna made a humming noise. "I'll be honest, I fear for your safety, Seem. I don't think it wise to play games with men obsessed with power."

"And is it wise to trust someone whose soul has been twisted by darkness?" Seem retorted sharply. "Jak has been forever changed by dark eco."

Jak felt a fierce sting to his pride; and here he'd thought Seem had started to like him.

"You always had a flare for the dramatic," Ionna mused. "Twisted? Changed forever? Quite the exaggeration."

"You know what I mean," Seem hissed. "Dark eco warps the psyche. If he cannot control it, he is dangerous."

"And so we come full circle. Seem, your duty, as an acolyte of dark eco and a monk yourself, is to follow the will of the Precursors." Ionna folded her arms. "That means to teach children how to wield their powers. It is what other monks did for you, and what you must do for others."

Seem was quiet for a moment, so Jak took advantage of the break in their conversation. He and Daxter wandered into the garage, trying to look like they hadn't just been eavesdropping.

"Hey, there, Face Paint," the ottsel said cheerfully. "Did'ya miss us?"

"..." Seem glared at him. "You are here to train, not talk."

"Thank you," Jak said quickly. "For helping me. I…"

Seem cut him off and began to head for the Dune Hopper. "We will go to the monk temple for our training."

"Ugh, that place again?" Daxter hung his head over Jak's hair. "Can't we go somewhere nice? I hear there's a pretty little oasis not too far from here!"

Seem stopped halfway to the buggy. "Orange Lightning. You cannot come with us."

"What?!" Jak clenched his fists. "I'm not going anywhere without—"

"What we are going to be practicing," Seem interrupted, "requires peace and quiet. Do you see why he must stay back?"

Jak almost argued, but hesitated. If he was honest? Daxter probably _couldn't_ be quiet. Peace was a foreign word to his friend.

Before Jak could come up with a convincing argument, Daxter said loudly, "Don't worry, buddy, I'll be just fi-ine right here. Gee, how will I ever get over the disappointment of _not_ having to trek through the desert to Mystic Monk Mountain?" He put his hand on his forehead and pretended to faint on Jak's shoulder.

Jak couldn't keep the smile off his face. "…You're sure, Dax?"

"Of course. I'll just hang out here and relax for a bit." Daxter hopped off his shoulder into the sand. "I can, uh…"

He spotted Ionna, leaning forward on the buggy. He skidded over to her. "Me and the old lady here will play some games or something. Got any good ones?"

"Hmm...gin rummy?" she suggested lightly.

Daxter grinned and leaned against her leg. "Sounds good to me."

Jak nodded. "Alright, then. I'll be back soon."

"Take your time," Daxter told him. "I'm going to go kick this old broad's butt. Now, how exactly do you play gin rummy?"

Jak left with Seem, jumping into the Dune Hopper as Ionna explained the game to Daxter. The last glimpse he got of his friend, the ottsel was leaping onto Ionna's shoulder, holding her braid for balance.

"Are you ready?" Seem asked. He took one last look behind him before pulling his goggles down.

"Let's go."


	11. Chapter 11

**Well, this chapter was supposed to be some good ol' fashioned Dadmas goodness, but then I kept writing more crap, and now it's backstory on Seem. Whoops.**

 **Happy reading!**

* * *

The ride to the Monk Temple was completely silent, considering Seem didn't say a word to Jak. She drove them up the mountain, the moon lighting the way, nothing but the sound of the buggy's engine.

"...Can I ask you something?" Jak finally said. Seem grunted in response. "Why do you hate me so much?"

For a minute, he didn't think Seem would reply. Finally, she said, "I do not hold hatred for you. But I do not think you understand. Dark eco is dangerous. It is...unpredictable. You treat it as an ally, as just another tool to use. You do not take it seriously."

"I do take it seriously. Probably more seriously than you do," he added hotly. " _I'm_ the one who had that crap pumped into me. _I_ know what it can do."

"And that is why I am baffled by your attitude!" Seem snapped back. "You may think that you are above the corruption of dark eco, _hero_ , but I know better."

Jak fell back into his seat with a thump. "Do you think I _like_ having this stuff happen to me? That I wanted it?"

"I think you have no idea of the danger dark eco holds." Seem turned the wheel hard and brought them to the entrance of the Monk Temple. "Out."

Jak did as she told him, though he glared the whole way. Seem didn't appear bothered by his attitude as she led him into the temple.

"Come. We'll head for the Atrium."

"The Atrium?" Jak's bitterness towards her was overshadowed by his curiosity. "What's that?"

Seem led him through the main entrance. "The Atrium is a sacred place, full of history and prayer. I must ask that you behave like an adult in it."

Jak bristled at her tone again. "You act like I'm some kid goofing around."

"You are," Seem retorted. "Now hurry up."

Jak glared at her, but followed her across the room. She glanced behind at him over her shoulder.

"I must make myself clear," she said. "You are not to tell anyone of the secrets of the Monk Temple. Not even Lord Damas is permitted to know."

"I thought Damas was your king," Jak challenged. Seem was heading towards the back wall. "Shouldn't he know all the secrets?"

"Hmph. Lord Damas is _your_ king. We monks may serve him, but we _obey_ our makers. _They_ are our kings."

She reached a blank, smooth space on the wall and gently pressed her hand to it. The wall opened up, the stone parting for the pair to go through. Jak blinked.

"Whoa. I didn't even know this was here."

"Of course you didn't." Seem led him down a set of stone stairs, torches flickering on the wall. "This is where the monks go for privacy and peace. We keep our secrets close."

They went down the stone staircase, their footsteps echoing through the dim corridor. Jak found himself transfixed by the huge murals along the wall, the yellow-orange paint mixing with the cool sparkle of water as it trickled down the bricks. It seemed like it was depicting history, with people carved into the pictures, vibrant figures that seemed to glow with eco-colored paint.

He felt that childish thrill he sometimes got, the excitement of a new place, ripe for exploration. He'd felt it at Misty Island, staring at the reddish glow of the Precursors; he'd felt it while traversing the Tomb of Mar, ducking and dodging spikes and traps like he was born for it.

Now, he felt it as he followed Seem into the depths of the Monk Temple. "How far down does this go?" he asked in wonder, all annoyances forgotten.

"Deep." Her eyes flashed at Jak. "Miles underground, to where the eco pipelines run. The corridors spread out, like a web underground."

The stairs ended in a large, open room. The room was a circle, with at least a dozen doors on the outer edge. Some were simple stone archways, some were adorned with the Seal of Mar. Still others had strange patterns on them, ones that Jak had never seen before.

"Welcome to the Atrium," Seem said.

It was adorned with Precursor idols and imagery, with even more murals painted all around the doors. The fire pits glowed around them, casting elongated shadows on the walls. As they stepped towards the center of the room, Jak glanced down at his feet. There were pipes in the floor, overlapping each other, with drain covers glowing with the power of eco.

"Whoa," he said softly. He hadn't seen the individual colors of eco in _years._ When was the last time, he thought, that he had seen red eco outside of ammo boxes, or blue eco not fueling machines?

"The eco pipes cycle eco through the Temple," Seem explained, her eyes following Jak's. "We use what we need, then return it to the pipes."

She gestured to the center of the room, where vents were spewing out eco: one for each color, for a total of six.

"The Atrium is said to be where Sages earned their powers. It is concentrated with the powers of eco, and is blessed by the Precursors themselves. It is here that the monks train and pray. Be respectful."

"When have I ever not been?" Jak said. She glared at him. "Alright, fine."

He took some of the dark eco himself, gritting his teeth as pain swirled inside his chest, making his muscles tighten and his hair stand on end. Seem's eyes widened.

"What?" he snapped. "You've never seen someone channel before?"

Seem gave him an almost pitying look. "...You have never been taught how to properly channel dark eco, have you?"

"Praxis didn't exactly have lessons on it," he replied bitterly. "I've just been doing the same thing I always do."

Seem sighed. "Then I'll show you."

She reached her hand out, but kept it several inches away from the plume of dark gas. She held her palm facing it and then exhaled softly. "Direct contact with dark eco is always painful," she explained carefully. "It is better to... _call_ the eco to you." She curled her fingers over her palm, and the eco swirled around her hand and into her body. Her muscles tightened a bit. "Do you see?"

"Really?" He mimicked her movements and coaxed the eco towards him. To his surprise, the normal sparks of pain that usually accompanied it were dulled. "Whoa...I never knew that."

"Dark eco is not studied like most ecos," Seem continued. "Very few people are capable of channeling it. I am not surprised you are uneducated in the ways of darkness."

"Gee, thanks." Jak watched as Seem went a few feet away and sat down on the stone ground, cross-legged. "What are we doing next?"

"I am going to show you how to meditate."

"Meditate?" Jak stared at Seem. "Listen, I've tried the whole 'breathe deep and count to ten' thing. It doesn't help."

"This will." Seem gestured to the spot across from her. "Sit. I will show you the techniques I use."

"Fine." Jak didn't seem convinced, but he sat down across from her. "So why are we meditating?"

Seem clasped her hands together in front of her. "Meditation allows you to focus your mind and channel your energies to productive pursuits."

"Productive. Got it." Jak watched as she straightened her back. "So...what do I do?"

"Start by finding your breath." Seem inhaled, her chest rising. "Let your body rest and your heart slow. Breathe in through your nose and out through your mouth."

"Okay." Jak did as Seem told him, trying to keep his breathing even. She watched him for a few moments, then nodded.

"Very good. Now that you have your breathing steady, you must relax your body." Seem held her hands up. "You take a breath in, tense your muscles, breath out, and relax them. We'll start with your hands."

"My hands?" Jak glanced down at his fingers, bony with rough calluses. "Okay. Let's go."

Seem nodded. "Close your eyes. Inhale."

Jak closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Seem continued, "Clench your hands into fists. Keep them clenched."

A few seconds passed, to the point that Jak's muscles twinged with pain. Finally, she said, "Good. Relax and exhale."

She watched as he did so, then asked, "How do you feel?"

"...Huh." He opened his eyes and shrugged. "Weird."

Seem gave him a wry smile. "You are unwinding your body's tension. It should feel strange."

"This is dark eco training?" he asked skeptically.

Seem gave him a blank look. Then, she said slowly, "Have you ever felt irrationally angry? Not just...normal anger, but a fierce desire to destroy something?"

Jak looked taken aback. "Um...yeah."

"That is not an idea unique to dark eco," she explained. "All people face anger. However, dark eco warps that anger, that impulse to destroy, into a monsterous bloodlust. It is dangerous."

"Yeah, I know." He wanted to remind her that he didn't need a lecture on dark eco, but she shook her head. "What?"

"You do not," she said simply. "Your body will always be...unstable because of the dark eco. But if you can control your mind, you can control your body. And if you can control your body, you can control the eco."

Jak was quiet. He shrugged and said, "Well, you're the expert."

"...Hmm. I suppose." She sighed, then said, "We will continue. Inhale and tense your biceps."

Jak did as she told, feeling the muscles tense and relax. She led him through all his muscle groups, even having him tense the muscles in his face by wrinkling his nose. Finally, she said, "Very good. Now, stand up."

Jak did as she told, watching as the monk got to her own feet. He felt oddly...calm, he thought. Relaxed. Almost fluid. Maybe that was the point.

"You have said that you lose control when you channel dark eco," Seem continued. "Tell me more about that experience."

Jak shrugged. "I've gotten pretty good at keeping in control with it. But...sometimes, if I'm angry or there's too much dark eco, I...I can't control myself. I kind of just…" He struggled to put the experience into words. "...I guess I just get stuck inside my own head, is the best way to put it. I know what I'm doing, but I can't stop myself from doing it."

He expected Seem to ask him to explain more, but she nodded, as if she fully understood his strange analogy. "We are going to replicate these situations. You are going to try to suppress your dark side."

"I don't want to...transform here. It's dangerous." Jak folded his arms. "Maybe we can do it somwhere else, later—"

"No," Seem said, shaking her head. "Right now."

Abruptly, she flicked both of her wrists towards Jak. Before he could say anything, the dark eco that was pouring out of the vent went straight for him, guided by Seem herself.

The dark eco slammed into his chest, overloading his senses. He could practically _taste_ it, bitter and acrid on his tongue. A growl ripped through his throat, the crackle of darkness taking over. He pushed it back, fighting against the wave of bloodlust.

"Focus on your breathing!" Seems' voice came through the haze, muffled with blood pounding in his ears. "Control yourself and you can control the eco!"

"Agh...I...can't!" He could feel his claws breaking from his fingernails, his lips pulling back to bare his teeth. "Gah!"

"Yes, you can!" Seem argued. She was steadily feeding eco into him, overpowering him more and more. "Do exactly as we did before, breathe deep and steady!"

"Ngh...agh..!" The dam broke, waves of darkness flooding Jak's consciousness. He wanted to _fight_ her, to _kill_ her, to _rip her limb from bloody—!_

And suddenly it stopped.

Jak fell, like a puppet with its strings cut. He collapsed on the stone ground, unsure of what had happened. It was as if all the dark eco had been burned away. He groaned in pain and exhaustion.

"You did fairly well for the first time." Jak glanced up from the floor to see Seem, funneling the dark eco into a drainpipe. "I'm impressed. Though I suppose you have had practice."

"W-what the hell were you thinking?" Jak gasped out. "I could have killed you!"

Seem looked up as the last of the eco drained away. "Yes," she said evenly. "You could have."

The stark comment hung in the air as Jak shakily stood back up, his body aching. "Did you...pull the eco out of me?" he asked finally.

Seem nodded. "Do not forget," she said, picking up one of the jars nearby, "that I am still a sage. You may have raw strength on your side, but I have my own powers."

She poured water from the jar into its cap, then slid the cap over to Jak. He took it, grateful. "Thanks."

As Jak drank, she continued, "Using these meditation techniques will help you to keep your channeling under control. I've seen you in the arena, and I've seen you now. You are trying to...force your darkness back. Such a thing will not work."

"Yeah, well," Jak grumbled, "what am I supposed to do, ask it nicely?"

Seem sighed. "You cannot resist anger with anger. That is fighting fire with fire, which only burns the world down."

"So what do I do?" Jak asked. "How do I...resist it?"

"...Hmm." Seem folded her arms. "You must be calm and steady. Consistent and strong. If you keep your own emotions in check, you will be able to resist the ones that come with dark eco. Don't try to push it back, that only wastes your energy."

"If I don't push it back, it won't go back," Jak argued.

Seem scoffed. "A wall does not have to push back. It simply doesn't move."

Jak blinked at her. She continued, "It will take practice. Temperance is not learned overnight."

They sat in silence for a few minutes, while Jak recovered his energy. He opened his mouth to ask if they were going to try again, but Seem already appeared to know what he was going to ask.

"Dark eco takes a toll on the body and mind. We will try again tomorrow night, to give your body and mind a chance to recover."

Jak wanted to protest, but he found his body agreed with her. He already felt weak and drained, tired from only one attempt. Instead, he said, "Fine. Same time tomorrow night?"

Seem nodded and began to close the jar of water, her eyes following Jak as he left. "I will see you then...hero."

* * *

Gin rummy, it seemed, was not Daxter's kind of game.

By the time Jak got back to Spargus, it was nearly midnight. He went to the infirmary to find that his friend curled up on the table next to the deck of cards, snoring loudly. Ionna was nowhere to be found.

"Daxter?" Jak shook him awake, snorting and jerking up. "Hey, you ready to go?"

"Ugh…" Daxter yawned and stretched, his back cracking into place. "Mmm...yeah, 'm ready."

Jak picked up his friend and settled him in his arms. "Ionna? You here?" He went to the room in the back of the infirmary. As he opened the door, he glanced around.

The medic's bedroom was sparse, not that he expected anything different. A bed, a dresser, a nightstand; there was a small bookshelf hanging above the nightstand, affixed to the wall and filled with books. It appeared Ionna kept in lockstep with the rest of the Wastelanders, only keeping what was valuable.

"Ionna isn't here?" he asked, nudging Daxter awake.

"Mrph...she had a 'mergency," Daxter mumbled. "Ran off to go...take...care of...dumbass…broke his...leg..."

Daxter went back to snoring in Jak's arms. The teenager rolled his eyes and headed for the door. He paused as he passed by the nightstand, distracted by the glint of metal. Hesitant and curious, he went over.

There was a shallow dish, made of Precursor metal, on the nightstand. There were a few trinkets in the dish: tiny silver hoop earrings; golden bangles with ornate designs; a flint and steel set; several colorful bullet shells. But Jak's eyes were drawn to a round metal pin, steel and chipped paint in a pattern like a face. He recognized the symbol, one as familiar to him as his own face. He'd seen it every day for two years.

 _I'll see you later, eco freak..._

The Krimzon Guard.

He turned the badge around in his hand, brushing his fingers along the edge of the cold metal. It was old and worn, rusted on the back, the pin of the medal crooked.

"If you're going to go snooping around in someone's room, you should at least have the decency to try and hide it."

Jak jumped at the voice behind him. He dropped the badge into the dish, startling Daxter awake. "Geez!"

"Ionna!" Jak spun around, guilt plain on his face. "I was just...I thought you might be…"

Ionna gave a low chuckle and stood beside him. "I'm not upset, though you _should_ know better. However, I understand that curiosity is a powerful force."

Her hands went to the dish and she picked up the badge he had been looking at. "So, what had you so fascinated?"

"...This." He showed her the Krimzon Guard pin. "Were you in the Krimzon Guard?"

"Ha!" Ionna took the pin from him. "A long time ago. The Krimzon Guard wasn't always the Baron's muscle, you know. Once upon a time, we were the King's personal guards."

"Really?"

Ionna nodded. "Oh, yes. There were only five of us back then." She began to tick them off on her fingers. "Myself, obviously. Two brothers, Yasir and Ali. They were killed in the war," she added darkly. "Antwon, who was banished out here, too. And Praxis, of course."

Jak wasn't surprised to hear the man's name, but the anger still burned in his chest. "Was Praxis always…?" He fumbled for the words, which Daxter willingly supplied.

"Crazier than a bag full of kangarats?" Daxter finished, swinging his way up to Jak's shoulder.

Ionna hesitated. "Praxis was always a very...zealous man. He was a war hawk, the kind of man who makes one hell of an ally, and one bitch of an enemy." She sighed. "Unfortunately, war hawks also like to make their allies into enemies. I think Praxis wanted so desperately to defeat the metal heads, he would have sacrificed anything to do it."

"Yeah," Jak growled. "That sounds like him."

Ionna ran her thumb over the pin. "It's just like him to use the symbol of noble warriors to present his own heroics. He always liked being the most powerful man in the room. Pity it didn't happen often."

"Not a Praxis fan, huh?" Daxter was grinning at her from Jak's shoulder. "Us either."

"I knew Praxis for a long time," she said, setting the pin down. "He wasn't always the tyrant he became. Believe me, child, war can change a person. In fact, it almost always does."

Ionna sighed heavily and then gave him a smile. "I suppose you didn't come here to talk about the intricacies and trauma of war. How did it go with Seem?"

Jak shrugged. "Fine, I guess. I don't think she likes me much."

"Ugh, just tell her the feeling's mutual." Daxter made a face. "Who'd even want to be friends with that weirdo?"

"Seem is a bit...stand-offish, I'll admit," Ionna said lightly. "But I wouldn't blame her. Seem has had a rough life."

"What's her story?" Jak asked.

Ionna led him out into the main room, shutting her bedroom door behind her. "People have not always treated Seem kindly."

"...You wanna elaborate?"

She sat down at one of the chairs and gestured for him to sit beside him. "Long ago, when the monks resided in Haven City, children who showed affinity for eco were taken to live in the Mountain Temple at a young age." She folded her arms and tilted her head back, remembering. "Back then, many of the monks were ardent believers in the myths of the Precursors. They believed that all dark eco sages were doomed to become fallen heroes, destroying everything in their path."

"Ahh, they're a buncha scaredy cats," Daxter said breezily. "Probably afraid of their own shadows! I mean, yeah, Jak here destroys everything in his path, but he's been doin' that for years." The ottsel gestured to his own body. "It's why I'm covered in fur!"

Jak glared at him. "Would you shut up? Sorry, Ionna," he added. "You can keep going."

She smiled at them both. "Daxter hit the nail on the head. It all came down to fear." Daxter gave Jak a gloating look as she pressed on. "Seem was shunned by most of the monks. They treated her as if she were something...less than human. A time bomb, waiting to explode. A nuisance at best, a cursed omen at worst."

Jak frowned. His mind flashed back to his time in Haven City, to the mothers who held their children a little tighter when he passed by, to the Underground members who skirted around him in the hideout. He tried to imagine himself as a child, faced with disdain from the ones who raised him.

"There were no monks who studied dark eco back then," Ionna continued. "It was a taboo subject. So Onin and I were the ones who trained Seem in the ways of eco. All the other monks were...let's just say, unkind. They would refuse to use her name, perform purification rituals after being in the same room...there were even some who denied that she was a sage. They routinely tried to banish her."

"What a bunch of jerks!" Daxter, incredibly, was indignant at Seem's treatment. "No wonder she hates everybody, they hated her first!"

"When we made our journey into the desert, most of the older monks stayed behind with Onin." Ionna gathered up the cards from the table and started to bind them together. "The younger monks were less traditional and accepted Seem when we made our home here. But...she never did quite learn to trust people."

Jak frowned and glanced at his hands. Yes, he understood perfectly what that was like. Before he could say anything else, Ionna suddenly straightened.

"My stars, is it already after midnight? You two better get some rest." She stood up and started to usher them out the door. "Go on, child, bedtime."

"Ah, we're grown men," Daxter protested, ignoring the fact that he had been asleep not fifteen minutes ago. "We go to bed when we want to!"

"Yes, well, when you're tired in the morning, remember that." She smiled as they left the infirmary. "Be careful, you two."

The door shut behind Jak's back. He started walking, his friend's presence heavy on his shoulder. His boots scuffed along the sand, the only sound besides the scratching of animals on the stone walls.

"Geez," Daxter said. "Maybe I shouldn't be so hard on Rubber Room, huh? Sounds like she's already gotten the short end of the stick."

Jak didn't respond, but he didn't have to. Both of them knew what it felt like to be "the other", to have to second-guess the motives of everyone you meet. When the rest of the world hated you, it was much easier to hate it first.

It was strange, he thought, how much his perspective could change in a single night.

* * *

 _Onin often wondered if it was fate, some great Precursor experiment, that brought both Ionna and Seem to her care. The powers of dark and light, powers her predecessors had only dreamed of, the very powers of creation and destruction._

 _Embodied by a ten year old and a three year old, playing beside a lake of darkness._

 _The monks trained out here sometimes, going through forms and meditation techniques together. It was an open spot near a dark eco lake, near where the Precursor shard was kept. The monks tended to avoid the dangerous lake, but it was the most convenient place to access the eco vents. While Onin watched a group of monks go through poses and stances, she also kept an eye on the two youngest in their ranks._

 _Youngest, and most powerful._

" _Look, look, Seem!" Ionna let a stream of light eco flutter above the toddler's head. Seem giggled and reached for it playfully. "One day, I'll show you how to do this, too."_

" _Yeah, yeah, I wanna!" Seem squirmed as Ionna re-absorbed the light eco. "Show me now!"_

" _You must wait, child," Onin said softly, brushing one of her thin, knotted hands over Seem's soft hair. "Patience."_

 _As if sensing the girl's annoyance, the pool of dark eco they were sitting by began to form waves, splashing against the rocks beside them. While neither Ionna nor Seem were bothered by this, the group of monks quickly moved away from the edge. Onin sighed, knowing exactly what was coming next._

" _Ionna," she said quietly, "please go back to the Temple. Continue your training inside. I will be there in a moment."_

 _As Ionna and Seem bounced back to the Temple, the other monks converged on her._

" _That child cannot stay here," one of the monks hissed. He glared at her imperiously, eyes narrowed in anger. "She cannot control her powers. She could kill us!"_

 _Onin set her staff on the ground, firmly planting it between herself and the monk. "You know it is common for children to have unrefined powers, Aster."_

" _But it is not common for children to have dark powers!" he argued. "We never should have taken her in. Dark eco is the antithesis of our Precursor duties!"_

" _She is cursed." This from another monk, Gracia. "You know what the stories say."_

" _I know that those are stories," Onin replied. "Written by men with fear in their hearts. Our duty as monks of the Precursors is to train and empower those who embody our makers." Onin clasped her hands in a sign of respect. "Dark eco was still made by the Precursors and still carries their power."_

" _And if the child_ is _cursed?" Aster demanded. "If our fears are correct? If she brings about our destruction? What then?"_

 _Onin stared at him and tilted her chin up. "Then it will be as the Precursors willed it."_


End file.
